


No Net Ensnares Me

by eternalarrow, Katsudonna



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Asshole Boys, F/M, Literature, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Tutor!Adam, Tutoring, general assholery, jane eyre au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-03-31 01:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13964178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalarrow/pseuds/eternalarrow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsudonna/pseuds/Katsudonna
Summary: Adam Parrish has lived a hard life. Beaten by his parents, he survives the abuse at Lowood school to finally achieve freedom as a private tutor to the ward of the mysterious and rich Ronan Lynch. AKA: A Pynch Jane Eyre AU.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS IT’S GONNA BE A WILD RIDE.
> 
> CW: canon abuse of a character

Adam drew the curtains of the window seat around him as quietly as he could, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun. In his arms he held his forbidden treasure: a book that he had received just this morning from a passing stranger. It was worn, tattered, just like the cramped cottage he shared with his parents in their equally worn and tattered tiny village in Gateshead. This little alcove was the only place he could find any privacy, and despite its heat in summer and drafts in winter, here was where he snuck off to when his father drank too much beer. It was his heaven in what was otherwise his hell.

He stroked the cover gently, feeling the embossed faded gold letters ripple under his fingers. Sonnets from the Portuguese. A book of poetry. This was what Adam loved more than anything in the world: the freedom of words, of entire universes yearning to be set free in his imagination, far, far away from his sad and hungry little world. It was an indulgence that he very rarely found the means for, and this made the happenstance more thrilling.

Adam held his breath as he cracked open the thick tome, doing his best to keep quiet and still in the face of the sheer excitement racing through his form. It would not do to be discovered. His own parents did not believe in reading frippery novels. They were not useful for a boy his age -- or of any age, really. Men should work with their hands, not work with their minds. That was for the nobles who languished away in their high towers, wasting away their days with idle entertainments and foppish fashions, not for the common folk who knew better. Books didn’t put food on the table or beer in his father’s belly.

Quietly, he began to read, biting his lip against any noises and breathing in the comforting scent of the old book, falling into the rhythm with ease. He hadn’t been able to put his hands on much poetry, and these poems in particular were making something deep in his chest throb with a strange mixture of discomfort and want.

_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways._   
_I love thee to the depth and breadth and height_   
_My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight_   
_For the ends of being and ideal grace._   
_I love thee to the level of every day’s_   
_Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light._   
_I love thee freely, as men strive for right._   
_I love thee purely, as they turn from praise._   
_I love thee with the passion put to use_   
_In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith._   
_I love thee with a love I seemed to lose_   
_With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,_   
_Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,_   
_I shall but love thee better after death._

Love. What a strange and foreign concept to Adam, who was poor in many ways, love being one of them. The concept of giving oneself up to another so entirely, so completely, was somewhat terrifying. Would he ever fall in love? Would he even live long enough in this provincial poverty to find out? He had been lucky enough to learn to read these words on these pages at the parish-run school, but that was about as lucky as he got to be. For however long he had to live, would he have the free time to even think about love? What a comfortable thing it would be, not to work day after day, dusk to dawn as a farm boy, a kitchen boy, an errand boy, and to have the luxury of a warm bed, a hearty meal, and someone kind to share it all with.

Adam was wrenched from his reverie by the sound of heavy and uneven footsteps trudging up the path. His heart began to beat as his body stilled. It was so very, very loud in his ears-- he would know, he would hear it and find him here, he would find the book--

The front door slammed open. Adam froze, sure he hadn’t enough time to hide the book before his father saw, and so he held his breath and clutched the book tight to his chest, curling up to make himself as small as possible. The heavy footsteps crossed nearer and nearer to the room he was hidden in, and Adam’s heartbeat ratcheted skyward, so loud he thought it must surely give away his location.

“Adam! Where is that boy…” He could hear the slurred syllables of his father’s drunken shouting and felt any happiness he’d gained shrivel into nothing. If he was home this early, and already drunk...that meant that something had happened with his job. And his father’s sour moods were the worst. He didn’t know where his mother was, but she was also most likely doing her best to stay out of her husband’s way, as always.

Despite his best efforts, Adam’s father still found him. The cottage wasn’t big, and by now he knew all of Adam’s best hiding spots. The heavy footsteps came into the room, though Adam couldn’t see on account of him having clenched his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to shut the world out.

“There you are.” There was menace in every word, every step closer a stone dropping into his gut. Adam wished for leniency, for some sort of divine intervention, for his mother to step in and stop his father -- anything that could stop the hurt before it arrived. But there was nothing -- was never anything that could stop Mr. Parrish when he was angry. The flimsy curtain was flung to the side, just as the heavy stink of alcohol burned at Adam’s nostrils. “What the devil are you doing hiding in here, boy? You get into trouble?” His reddened eyes alighted on the book clutched in Adam’s trembling fingers and narrowed. “What’s that you got? A _book_? The hell you need that for, eh? Think you’re smart enough to read that thing?”

His father snorted derisively, reaching out for it and snatching it up, breaking Adam’s hold easily. He held it like one would hold garbage, sneering down at it with offense. “This is rot. Utter useless nonsense. You dare bring this into the house when you should be bringing in food? Money? Something _useful!_ ” His father’s voice roared in his ears, raising into a shout by the end of his sentence. “Disgraceful little fuck, where did you even get this, did you steal it? Stealing worthless junk like this while your mother and I slave away to keep you fed and clothed?! Look at me, you cowardly shit!”

Adam flinched, hunching his shoulders and daring to brave a look up at his father. The anger twisting the man’s face was all too familiar, and Adam involuntarily let out a small whimper. He watched his father raise the thick book in his hand, and the next thing Adam knew was pain. It slammed into him like a wall, the whole left side of his face burning with agony. He was on the ground, unable to think of how he got there, unable to think at all, except to scrabble at his ear where there was a high pitched ringing and nothing else. Fear and pain made him pant and grasp for purchase, the threadbare carpet beneath his searching fingers giving no support. He could still hear his father shouting at him from above, but it felt distant, muffled, _strange_ , second to the cacophony of thunder firing in his brain. There was nothing else. He couldn’t stand, couldn’t get his legs under him, everything was _off_ , and _tilted_ , and--

\--

The jolt of carriage wheels skimming over a rock jolted Adam from his reverie. Disoriented for a second, he struggled to piece together where he was. He glanced around at the carriage and rubbed his eyes. How he had managed to come even close to drifting off in the midst of the violent jerking of the carriage was a mystery, and the uneasiness of the memory clenched his already rolling stomach.

He held his hand almost unconsciously to his left ear, long deaf after the beating with the book all those years prior. A long time had passed since then, and he had left his home for Lowood School not too long afterwards. _Straight from one hell into another_ , Adam remarked bitterly to himself.

But no more. No longer. Adam was taking hold of his future-- he had advertised, and was leaving his miserable past behind. No more teaching at the school that reminded him so much of the place he was born. He was going to be a tutor to a Miss Opal of the Lynch Family. He would save money, and maybe, one day, open a school of his own.

“Sir! Sir, off there, in the distance, do you see it?” Cried the driver. “It’s Thornfield Barns!”

A huge, rambling house-- no, palace-- emerged from the low hills. It was all towers and gothic windows, imposing, grand, with gardens that burst forth from it in a verdant sprawl, and beyond that stables and fields-- a great number of them-- spread as far as the eye could see. This was the sort of wealth that seemed so remote from Adam, a kind of money he scarcely dared even imagine existed. He felt in quick succession awed and uplifted, then small and dirty. After all, none of this was his. He hadn’t earned an ounce of it. He was living in borrowed splendor as the help.

The carriage trundled through the lane, past fields of dreamy-eyed cows and grazing horses, growing closer to the huge house. The carriage at last breached the front gate-- a peculiar wrought iron and gilt one, set in a tall somber grey cobblestone wall, overflowing with what appeared to be ravens of all kinds. Some were flying, some perched, some grooming the others, some fighting. It sent shivers down his spine-- really, ravens as decoration?

Flowers he had never seen in any of his books bloomed throughout the gardens. A particularly strange and impossible blue lily grabbed his eyes, a huge field of it spread before the mansion. As he grew closer and closer to their manor house, more details came into view: towering stained glass windows, strange animals carved from colorful stones peeking out from peculiar places. The whole place had the strange fanciful feeling of a dream, which was no less dimmed by the massive wood door bedecked with wings, flowers, and strange creatures Adam couldn’t identify. His eye caught on particularly strange bird-man-like creature that he had never seen in any book on fairies or mythology as the carriage drew to a halt. He was so transfixed by the scene on the door that it took him a second to register a person-- a very short, very spiky-haired person-- standing with their arms crossed right in front of it.

Adam jolted a little -- first in shock at seeing this person, second because this small person was also very beautiful, spikes and all. His insides flipped over lightly, and he ducked his head against a flush rising to his cheeks.

“Mr. Parrish, I presume? I’m Blue, the housekeeper of Thornfield Barns, though I’m not anyone’s keeper otherwise.” She gave a quick grin, “Come inside and I can show you to your room, and then we’ll take a tour of the house. You can meet Opal tomorrow.”

Adam opened his mouth to speak, got a cutting ‘hurry up’ look, and instead gripped his bag tight and hastened to follow Blue inside. Her brusqueness didn’t bother him as much as the schoolmistresses that he had grown up with. There was an altogether different feel to it. Not directed toward him per say, but at the world in general? Whatever it was, it was not unpleasant, and so he followed Blue further into the house, looking around with an awe he wished he didn’t feel. The mansion was beautiful, and richly furnished, though as Adam looked closer, he could see that there was a strangeness to the architecture and decorations just as there had been around the outside of the palace.

The tables lining the halls were draped in more exotic flowers, candelabras shaped like strange, mythical creatures, with large, sweeping windows between them. The windows were hung with a strange cloth that shimmered green--no, purple-- or was it blue? Everytime he blinked it seemed to shift color into something new and wondrously beautiful. There were sofas with strange animal feet and trinkets everywhere, both luxurious and banal. There were ornate foreign-looking vases and wooden spoons, strange masks and a broken carriage wheel, fantastic and somewhat menacing paintings of brooding men in armor and somber women in chitons and monsters and racehorses and one of an empty room.

The thing that most impressed upon Adam was the sheer quantity of things. It wasn’t the kind of wealth he had expected -- but wealth it indeed was. A kind of confident wealth that didn’t feel the need to show off. It set a gnawing feeling deep inside his stomach.

As they progressed through the twist and turns of hallways of varying ages, colors, and states of repair, Adam was suddenly struck by one image that was different than the rest. It looked to be a family portrait, set in a giant gilt frame, swathed in red velvet curtains. A father, sharp and darkly handsome, a mother, golden haired and beautiful, and three boys, two dark like their father and the smallest as golden as the woman. Their heads were all topped by cherubic curls, and they glowed happily. The eldest sat straight next to his father, the youngest half sat on his mother’s lap looking at her adoringly, and while the middle child, smiling, clasped the hands of both his parents.

Before he could get an even better look at the picture, Blue was hurrying him along with an impatient _tsk_. It was amazing how fast she could move on such short legs.

The residential wing was just as large as Adam would have expected, but it had a homier feel to it. Lived in, well loved, less cluttered and more carefully curated. Adam was waiting to be shown through a narrow passageway to what was surely the quarters for the help, but instead Blue stopped in front of a heavy wooden door in the main wing, pulling out a key from the pocket of her well-pressed trousers, and unlocking the door.

“Here’s your room for the duration of your stay. You can rearrange it if you wish, but all I ask is that you keep it clean. It’s been the unused guest room for years, so it’s a bit sparse, but if you require anything else, just let me know and I’ll fix you right up.” Adam blinked at her in shock, because surely this could not be his room? _His_ room? The bedroom itself was nearly the size of his whole cottage growing up. How could he possibly feel comfortable here? As always, his throat constricted with guilt as he looked upon the finery in the room. It had been years since he had lived under his parents’ tyrannical wing, but the effects were long-lasting. Having things of his very own that he didn’t immediately give up or share with long-gone parental figures felt strange, felt _wrong_. Adam still lived an incredibly spare life, despite his best efforts to break from the stranglehold that had been impressed upon him from such a young age.

Guilt crawled thickly up his throat as his father and mother’s voices hissed in his ears, _You don’t deserve this grand room and this grand life, it’s not meant for dirt like you. How dare you try to move up in the world and leave us, the people who raised an ungrateful little sack of shit like you, behind?_

“Mr. Parrish?”

Adam blinked and gasped, shaking his head to clear his mind. “I apologize. I was...surprised. Is this really where I’m meant to stay? The serving quarters would be more than adequate, I assure you.”

“Mr, Lynch cares less than a whit about the distinction of class and wealth in his own home.” The look Blue gave him was searching, almost as if she could see into his mind and discern what sort of memories Adam had been reliving. Adam feels his ears flush red under her scrutiny. The attention of beautiful young women was something he was unused to, and didn’t particularly enjoy in this context. “We don’t have servants’ quarters here anymore. They’ve been renovated into indoor nurseries, workrooms, and playrooms for Miss Opal. We all stay in separate rooms in the residential wing here. I’m around the corner, and Mr Lynch himself abides a few doors down.”

“Mr. Lynch...sounds like a very progressive man.”

“Mr. Lynch is a man who cares little for the expectations of society. Or the expectations of anyone at all, really.” Blue smiled sharply up at him, mischief clear in her expression, “He also doesn’t care for keeping a tight fist on the household, so I can do what I like with the place. Anything that makes it so that he can spend the least amount of time worrying about affairs he could care less about, and more time tending to his favorite animals and the fields and sleeping the day away.”

Blue painted a picture of a very strange and eccentric man, and Adam could not help but imagine what he will be like when he meets him. A middle-aged dowd with bristling moustaches and several cats, perhaps. The image made him want to smile, but he controlled himself. “I look forward to meeting him.” Was all he said. “And Miss Opal?”

Blue’s grin was wide and openly fond, “She’s a complete menace, but everyone loves her. A complete handful. Never wants to sit still, always running around outside in the mud, trying to eat anything and everything she can put in her mouth. But she’s also bright and full of life and loves Mr. Lynch fiercely, and he her.”

“Then I look forward to meeting her as well. She’s Mr. Lynch’s...daughter? Granddaughter?”

Blue blinked, surprised at the question, and then shook her head. “Oh, no, she’s much too old for that, and he too young. Granddaughter.” She snickered openly, displaying decorum only when she felt, and treated him more as a friend than an employee. “Ronan will be barking when he hears!”

Adam just stood and twisted the strap of his bag within his fist, unsure of what to say. Blue chuckled for a few moments before collecting herself, smile still firmly affixed to her lips, eyes bright with mirth.

“Opal is Mr. Lynch’s ward. He takes care of her as best he can, but he has...business that he must attend to and so cannot spend all the time he wants with her. His schooling also was not...the most reliable and so really, your job here is to save Miss Opal from becoming a strange person like Mr. Lynch.”

Blue’s smile was infectious, and so Adam allowed a small uptick to his own lips in return, “I look forward to it. I’ll do my best.”

“Excellent. Well!” Blue gathered herself up, moving back towards the door and slowly moving down the hall. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour, so just get yourself settled in and then come down when you’re ready. It’ll just be us tonight, as everyone else has already eaten and Mr. Lynch is away, but tomorrow you can meet Opal and take a proper tour of the grounds.” And then she disappeared around the corner and left Adam hovering in the doorway of his new room. Turning, he took a deep breath, told himself that he had _earned this_ , that he _belonged here_ , and started to unpack.


	2. Chapter Two

It was at breakfast the next morning that Adam first met Opal.

When he finally found his way to the breakfast room after getting lost and backtracking through the maze of hallways that made up the manor house, he discovered a rather interesting tableau. In the most formal room he had yet to see in the house, with sunshine yellow walls and white plaster full of morning light, sat two individuals -- the first was Blue, hair spectacularly spiked, making a particularly contorted and almost pained face at her cup of tea, bedecked today in what appeared to be a bright blue hunting outfit.

The second figure was a small girl, kicking her feet back and forth, banging against the chair noisily as the oversized boots she wore clattered against it. She had deep set, almost sunken eyes and closely shorn blond hair and, at the moment, was shovelling scones in her mouth. Adam watched fixedly in a mix of fascination and horror as the girl began to lick jam off the plate, then stick the whole plate in her mouth and began chewing that, too.

Blue glanced up and spotted him frozen in the doorway.

“Ah! Good morning Mr. Parrish!” She put down the cup of tea in favor of a small bowl of yogurt. It was topped with fruit, we she immediately began to pick out. “Sit down, sit down! There’s scones, eggs, bacon, yogurt, fruit, and some tea, but I wouldn’t really recommend it. It’s a special brew my mother sent over. Unless you like drinking moldy dirt this early in the morning. Do you like drinking moldy dirt this early in the morning, Mr. Parrish?”

Adam was able to jerk himself out of his reverie and come sit down at the breakfast table. It was nothing like the meager and humble breakfast he was used to at Lowood (before that, he had rarely had breakfast at all). There was all kinds of food spread out before them, more than just three people could eat.

“No, Ms. Blue, I can’t say I enjoy partaking of moldy dirt this early in the morning,” he responded as calmly as he could.

“Oh, it’s just Blue, Mr. Parrish, and this here is Opal-- Opal, you know, I am not big in telling you how to live your life, but I do not think dinnerware is suitable breakfast food,” Blue said, raising an eyebrow across the table at the child. Opal froze in the middle of her chewing, mouth still on the plate, and flicked her eyes from Blue to Adam, back again, and back again to Adam, clearly just realizing he was there and not entirely sure what to make of it. She removed the plate from her mouth and used it to partially hide her face and she peered at him with great suspicion.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Opal,” Adam held out a hand to her. She stared at it a moment before slowly taking it and shaking it. Adam’s hand came away somewhat sticky. “My name is Mr. Parrish, and I am to be your tutor.”

Adam took some time to speak to Opal, but it was very hard to get answers from her. She seemed both incredibly shy and incredibly distrustful, so he struggled to get anything more than one word answers from her. When Opal had gotten up and left the table (without being excused), Adam turned to Blue.

“What sort of things would Mr. Lynch like me to teach her?” Adam asked hesitantly. Best as he could tell, Opal was fundamentally a blank slate. She had little by way of manners and seemed to barely know the basics.

“I want you to teach her everything and anything she needs to get by in life, Mr. Parrish,” Blue replied simply.

“That is terribly vague, Ms.-- I mean, Blue. And you can call me Adam. It seems one-sided for only one of us to be on a first name basis.”

Blue smiled. Oh yes, she was very pretty indeed.

“Well, her manners will certainly need to be worked on, but can she read? Can she write? Mathematics at all?”

“Well, she can do her letters, Mr. Lynch taught her that much, but struggles to read. She can count, and add small numbers, but that’s about it. She is, however, fluent in Latin.”

Adam blinked. “Fluent in Latin?”

“Fluent in Latin,” Blue confirmed without further explanation. “I’ll see if I can track her down so you can start her lessons. She does disappear sometimes.”

As it turned out, Opal had, in fact, disappeared during their conversation. Leaving Adam to finish his breakfast in bemusement, Blue searched all over the entire house to find her, to no avail. Exasperated, she returned and then suggested that Adam take a turn about the grounds to see if she was there, and if she wasn’t, well, then, he could enjoy the beautiful weather until she turned up again.

The grounds were every bit as fantastic as he had seen in his carriage ride the day before. They were full of oddities too, just like the house, including a fountain of a dolphin that spewed what looked to be carbonated water. Out of curiosity, he took a small sip, to find it definitely carbonated but also slightly lemony and just a touch sweet. He walked through the field of blue lilies-- another impossibility-- and past a strange overgrown hunk of bright orange metal in an almost carriage-like shape that he couldn’t figure out.

He trudged up past stone horse barns and beyond long, low cattle barns and flocks of pure white sheep that seemed to almost shimmer in the late morning light and towards a particularly large and welcoming looking tree. There was so much beautiful land, and it had a wild beauty to it, though it was obvious it was well taken care of. No sign of Opal though, and after walking along the vast acreage, Adam had grown tired. The tree looked like the perfect spot to take rest under, and Blue hadn’t seemed overly concerned with her charge being missing so he didn’t feel guilty about abandoning his search. Blue _had_ told him to enjoy the weather, after all.

The scenery was so entrancing that Adam hadn’t particularly been looking where he was going, and so suddenly he found himself almost tripping over a prone body laid out flat in the grass. Adam made an involuntary sound of startlement as he sidestepped as quickly as he could not to fall on the person, instead getting tangled in his own feet and tumbling to the ground next to them, startling them in turn.

From his disoriented heap on the ground, Adam heard a shrill squawking _kerah_ , and saw big black wings beating out of the corner of his eyes. _A bird?_ A moment later he felt a weight land on him, and then he cried out as the bird pecked hard at his head, annoyed. Adam batted his hand wildly to dislodge it and succeeded, thankfully. Groaning and rubbing the back of his head, he was distracted from the sharp pain when he abruptly heard a sharp inhale. Adam turned to see the body he had nearly run over, its eyes wide open and staring, though it remained unmoving. It was a young man, Adam realized. One dressed in incredibly fine clothes, though he clearly didn’t care if they got dirty. He was handsome, too, with a sharp jaw, strong, dark features, and -- Adam realized with dawning realization -- familiar. He began to hastily right himself, cheeks burning hot with an uncomfortable mixture of embarrassment and self-reproach, an apology already on his lips, when the man moved, one hand shooting out to grab his wrist tightly.

“You…” The man’s voice was raspy with sleep, and he was looking at Adam with such an open, wondering expression that it made Adam flush more. His blue eyes had a piercing quality to them, flitting all across Adam’s face with what Adam could only call...astonishment.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you on the ground, I should have been watching where I was going. I did not mean to disturb your rest.” He fumbled, tugging at his arm in discomfort, the prolonged contact strange. Luckily, the hand gripping him was snatched back in the next instant, and the man’s expression shuttered, leaving no trace of the openness that had been there before.

“Who are you? And what are you doing walking around my lands aimlessly?” The man asked gruffly, picking himself off the ground with a grunt as Adam did the same, dusting himself off. _His lands,_ which must make him Mr. Lynch. Adam’s _employer._ Good god, what a first impression. In that moment, the big bird which had attacked Adam earlier reappeared and settled itself upon Mr. Lynch’s shoulder as if it belonged there, and the man gave it a little pat. Looking closer, it seemed to be a raven. Strange.

“My name is Adam Parrish, Mr. Lynch. I am to be your ward, Miss Opal’s, tutor. I arrived yesterday.” Mr. Lynch furrowed his brows at those words, looking Adam up and down before crossing his arms.

“Never heard of you. We don’t need a tutor.”

Adam’s heart was in his throat. “Miss Blue sent for me.”

“Blue! That lousy maggot, always sticking her head into things when she doesn’t need to.” Mr. Lynch began grumbling and started stalking away, raven swaying on his shoulder, squawking as it was jostled. “Come with me, we’re going to get this sorted out, and then you can go back to where you came from.”

 _This_ was Mr. Lynch? Whatever impression he had gotten from that first, open look was completely overshadowed by the overbearing rudeness of this man. Just as Adam had finally begun to settle into the idea of staying here, he was going to be forced to leave? The lump in his throat and the prospect of being so suddenly unemployed loosed his tongue.

“I can see _why_ Miss Blue asked me to come, if these are the sort of manners you are teaching her, Mr. Lynch. You’ve been nothing but rude, didn’t even introduce yourself, and now you’re insulting your housekeeper in a truly horrid manner. You are no role model for a young girl.” Adam was breathing hard, eyes snapping up to meet Mr. Lynch’s surprised ones. If he was going to be let go already, he might as well speak his mind. He’d had enough of being unwanted all throughout his childhood -- he had come here to be helpful and do good work -- but if being wanted was impossible, maybe he could at least give the man something to think about.

Mr. Lynch stopped walking abruptly and faced Adam, noting his anger with raised brows. He seemed impervious to the angry bird hitting him in the face with its wings. “Huh. You’ve got a spine, at least. Why should I introduce myself when you seem to know me already? Seems redundant. And you’re right, i’m _not_ a role model for a young girl. But Opal is a different breed altogether. You’ll see.” And with that cryptic remark, he stormed back to the house, broad shoulders set tense, bird still flapping about on his shoulder, rendering him slightly ridiculous.


	3. Chapter Three

Adam had remained frozen under the great tree for some time. He was unsure of how to proceed. He ran a hand over his face, reprimanding himself for his audacity. Never, in all his years at Lowood, in all the years prior with his abusive father and permissive mother, had he allowed his temper to fun so freely. 

Perhaps his first taste of freedom--of independent employment-- had made him grow wild. Perhaps it was Blue’s familiarity and frankness, so foreign to him, that had emboldened him. Perhaps it was Opal’s obvious need of someone to attend to her, to help her find her way in this world. Or perhaps it was Thornfield Barns itself-- a magical place full of wonder that brought out parts of Adam that were buried so deep and for so long he had almost forgotten their existence. Being brought out of the darkness of a strict life of poverty into one so full of light and strangeness seemed to have made him too bold. _Oh, Adam, what were you thinking?_

In a daze, he began to work his way back the house. He had barely scratched the surface of all the manor had to offer and he had already destroyed his chances at a better future. So _what_ if his master was rude? He had put up with rude before, he had also put up with cruel and humiliating. His thoughts turned round and round in his head as he picked his way back to his room-- the first room he had to himself and it had only lasted one night. 

He had slowly pulled out his second-hand trunk to start packing when he heard a clatter of footsteps down the hall and Blue burst in, not even knocking at the sight of his cracked door.

“ADAM? ADAM ARE YOU-- Oh, thank god! There you are! I couldn’t find you and was afraid you’d run off or someth--” she stopped short at the sight of the open trunk.

“You don’t need that,” she said in a clipped tone.

“I don’t?” Adam responded uncertainly. Mr. Lynch had certainly been furious at him; there was no mistaking that.

“Oh, _for the love of_ \-- Listen, Adam, Ronan Lynch is the most impossible man alive. The sooner you acquaint yourself to that fact, the better off you will be. Now hurry up and get changed. He has invited you to take the afternoon meal with him.”

“He has _invited_ me?” Really, this was too much. The man had been blowing hot and cold since he’d met him, and it was frustrating him greatly. “Whatever for? He did not seem to want me to stay any longer than I had to to pack my things.”

“As I said, he is impossible. And impulsive. When he came inside, he seemed just as intrigued as he was angry -- I think you must have gotten _something_ through to him, because it only took a few... _choice_ words to convince him to hear you out.” Blue gave him a shrewd look, “What _did_ you say?”

“I yelled at him.” Adam said wryly, placing the trousers he had been folding into his trunk.

Blue broke out into a grin. “Perfect. That’s _exactly_ why you’ll do well here. Ronan’s been alone so long he thinks he doesn’t need anything from anyone. He’s used to getting his way. If you want to keep yelling at him, that would be just fine. I think he enjoys being crossed, really.”

Adam just sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what came over me. It’s not like me at all, Blue. But….” He chewed his lip thoughtfully. Opal seemed like she really did need the tutoring, and he _did_ want to keep his post, unorthodox though his employer was. “Alright, I shall lunch with him and see what he has to say.”

“He’ll most likely still be rude,” Blue pointed out, “but you are needed here and he knows it, even if he won’t admit it. Just be direct.”

“I suppose it can’t be _worse_ , I’ve already angered him.” Adam straightened, looking determinedly at Blue. “Where shall I find him?”

Motioning Adam to follow, Blue led him through the halls again to a smaller room with large bay windows to let in the sunlight. There was an ornate round table in the center of the room, large enough for only four or so occupants rather than the vast dinner table they had eaten at the previous night. Mr. Lynch was already there, coat thrown haphazardly over the back of his chair he was lounging in, seemingly relaxed. There were just two place settings, and dishes piled with so much food it made Adam’s head spin. Beyond that, in the far corner was a sideboard on which sat the large raven that had attacked him earlier that day stacking biscuits on top of each other and screeching loudly. The sight of a large carrion bird seemingly making itself at home in such a formal house was more than a little shocking. It took him a full moment to recover himself.

“Mr. Lynch?” Adam called out warily, stepping into the room as Blue saw herself out, closing the door behind her. The other man turned to Adam and blinked slowly, though his eyes were sharp under indolent lids.

“Get in, already. I’ve been waiting for you an age. Do you keep all your employers waiting so?”

His tone grated on Adam’s nerves as Adam stiffly stepped further into the room, posture exactingly perfect as he held the tension within the line of his body. “I had thought you had no intention of being my employer, Mr. Lynch?”

“Hmph.” Mr. Lynch grunted, kicking out the chair opposite him as Adam approached. “I have made no especial plans as of yet. Blue went ahead and hired you without my say-so. I won’t deny that Opal would benefit from proper tutelage,” He waited for Adam to sit down before beginning to spoon up food for himself in large amounts, “however, _I_ know none of your qualifications, Mr. Parrish. I know not where you come from, or anything about you at all, really. How do I know you are what Opal needs?”

“You don’t, I suppose.” Adam waited for Mr. Lynch to finish taking his food before helping himself, taking controlled portions of each item, even the ones he did not particularly care for. “I am willing to answer any questions you may have about my education. I assure you I am properly trained for the task and able to provide a well-rounded education for your ward. I spoke to her yesterday, and I could see that though she is wild, she has potential. I believe with the proper outlets, she will truly thrive.” A controlled passion suffused Adam’s voice as he spoke of Opal’s potential. He knew that he could teach the girl well, given time, and he wanted to hold on to the opportunity to do so. If that meant letting Mr. Lynch pry into his past a little, then so be it.

Mr. Lynch was staring at him from across the table, eyes flitting across his face just slightly, as if looking for something. “Alright then, Mr. Parrish. From where did you receive your...education?” The look leveled at Adam was tinged with skepticism, as if no matter what Adam said, it would not be good enough. It was enough to make Adam hot under the collar with anger, but he did not back down. He was proud of what he had become, and what he had made of himself -- this one man was not going to make him believe otherwise.

Adam pulled himself up a little taller in his seat, jutting his chin out slightly to match Mr. Lynch’s.

“I attended Lowood Academy,” Adam answered. “I graduated top of my class and was retained there after graduation to teach Arithmetic and Latin for two years before I came here. I come highly recommended and qualified, I assure you, Mr. Lynch.”

“Lowood, huh?” Mr. Lynch replied slowly, the smallest hint of a frown creasing his eyebrows. “Lowood… Lowood… is that not the school for poor boys to become secretaries and such for rich folk? Did they not have a plague hit the school some years back?”

Adam stiffened. Yes, Lowood was established as a school to elevate young men born into poverty into positions above their stations but without threatening the upper class. Mr. Lynch’s sharp gaze stayed on Adam’s face, appraising him. His limbs were spread wide, he was confidently slouched in his chair, the plate, still piled with food, untouched.

“I thought they would have taught you it would be wiser to be a suck-up. But it seems you have some spine,” a smile curved the edge of Mr. Lynch’s lips, an expression that was equal parts lovely and terrifying. 

“Here’s what I’m going to do, Mr. Parrish. Blue will never give me a day’s rest if I do not at least give you a chance. Hell, she just spent the last hour railing at me that ‘Adam Parrish is extraordinarily qualified you are lucky to have him’ and ‘Opal deserves this’ and what not. You seem a very principled man, Adam Parrish. The sort that has discretion. You seem a stubborn man, too; had to have been to survive a place like that. You can remain here in my employ until I tell you to get the fuck out.”

Adam stared in open wonder at Mr. Lynch as he began unceremoniously to shovel food into his mouth. 

“What the hell are you looking at? Eat. You look like you could use it.”

Meanwhile, in the background, the raven began shoving the crackers under an elaborate doily.

“May I ask a question?” Adam asked.

“Certain you already did,” mumbled Mr. Lynch around a mouthful of food. Adam chose to ignore this.

“Why do you have a raven inside your house?”

Mr. Lynch grinned devilishly. 

“Eat your food, Parrish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! We're so thankful for all your comments and kudos, it really keeps us going :D We love hearing from you!
> 
> This chapter is a bit short because we've been busy preparing to go to Anime Boston this weekend! We're all set to have a ton of fun, and it SHOULDN'T affect our update schedule, but if it does, forgive us! Con is a ton of fun but also exhausting, boy howdy.
> 
> Katsudonna will be cosplaying as a cosplay of herself cosplaying herself (She likes to think she's edgy), and I will hopefully be a Moon Sister from Kubo and the two strings, along with another friend! (If we can finish in time...!) If anyone's gonna be there, come scream about Pynch with us!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hover over the Latin for a translation!

Opal spent the next few days making herself scarce. She did not show up at mealtimes, and did not even show up to her room to sleep at night. This concerned Adam immensely, but Blue shrugged it off, saying that she found other places to sleep. He had seen her off in the distant gardens occasionally, digging holes or chasing things, and once flitting through the back halls that led to the kitchens. He was certain that the shy and retiring cook, Noah Czerny, was slipping her food. That a little child could have such freedom amazed Adam: he did not know if this was a kind of love or a kind of neglect. From what he knew of Blue, though, he could hardly say she did not care for the peculiar child. Mr. Lynch seemed to care for her immensely too for all his gruffness, but also permitted this odd behavior.

It wasn’t until midweek that Adam finally had the opportunity to do his job. He’d been sitting outside on a bench, reading a book he had found in Mr. Lynch’s library, when the elusive ward cautiously approached him. He heard her coming, with those too-large boots she preferred clomping across the ground, but hadn’t looked up in case he spooked her away. This was the first time she’d attempted to seek him out on her own, and he didn’t want to make any sudden movements. It was as if she was a skittish animal, with the way she evaded any contact, sniffing around curiously before slowly beginning to trust a stranger.

Adam could admit he was nervous; Opal was unlike any other child he had encountered before, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to speak with her when the time came. Their first meeting had involved mostly one-sided conversation and at the most, one-word replies to questions Adam had posed. Perhaps he had pushed too much, in his quest to make himself appear to be an attentive and eager tutor. If he let Opal set the pace, maybe they would at last become easy with each other.

Being wary of people in a position of authority over you was something Adam was familiar with, and seeing the environment Opal was being raised in, he wasn’t sure she really _had_ anyone who asserted any authority over her whatsoever. It might be the stifling new experience of having a tutor that was making her shy away. The shuffling steps neared, and Adam kept up his fiction of reading, turning the page with an air of nonchalance. A few minutes later, his patience was rewarded as Opal came to stand before him, staring directly at him with her big eyes. Her gaze was very direct despite her earlier hesitance, when Adam looked up from the book to meet hers.

“Hello, Opal.” Adam said softly, staying slightly hunched over so he didn’t loom over her. She said nothing in return, but stared for a good minute more before shuffling to his side, clambering up onto the bench with him clumsily, big boots banging against his own legs, muddying the fabric. She didn’t greet him back, but she leaned in closer to the book he was reading, blinking at it with a frown. He held it out so she could see it better, and she reached out with her small hand and flipped some pages, and then looked up at Adam with her eyebrows pulled down. He blinked down at her in bemusement until she pointed at the page imperiously, looking up at him.

“Do you want me to read to you?”

Opal bobbled her head, and kept her finger on the page until Adam began to read from the passage, slowly. _“The dislike expressed by Diocletian towards Rome and Roman freedom was not the effect of momentary caprice, but the result of the most artful policy.”_ It really couldn’t be very interesting for her, and from the way she was blinking uncomprehendingly at the page, he wasn’t capturing her interest. He went on for another few lines, when suddenly Opal reached out and snapped the book shut over his fingers with a huff.

“Opal!” Adam winced slightly, withdrawing his fingers and shaking them slightly. It was a heavy book. “If you don’t like something, please tell me instead of doing something like that. It’s bad manners.” She crossed her arms and looked back up at him mulishly. “I can find something else to read that you might enjoy, and perhaps we can work on your letters too, but I will only do so if you work with me. Mr. Lynch might be fine with you stomping about and not having a care for others, but most people are not like that.” Adam took a deep breath and stopped that train of thought. He didn’t want to lecture her already, they weren’t comfortable with each other yet, and he wanted her to trust him. “I think you are a bright girl, and I want to help you shine even better than you do now.” He chanced a smile, seeing her arms slacken, her shoulders turn towards him as she listened. “I will need your help. Will you work with me? We can show your Mr. Lynch just how amazing you can be.”

Opal chewed her lip for a brief moment, and then nodded decisively. _“Ego clara.”_ She took Adam’s hand in hers and rubbed her hands over his fingers as if to soothe them, and then ducked to press a fleeting kiss to the back of his hand. “Can we read?” She asked quietly.

Adam smiled, shocked at the suddenly affectionate gestures, but warmed nonetheless. She really was a sweet child, after all. “Yes. Shall we go to the study room?” 

\---

Adam and Opal spent the better part of two weeks becoming acquainted. Much to his surprise, Opal did not have a nanny, a common practice among the upper class. Or so he had been told, with his only real experience with the upper class being the headmaster of his school Barrington Whelk, who had once been upper class but had taken his employment after some undisclosed disgrace caused his decline in society. And so he found that his position involved not only being a teacher, but also companion and friend to Opal. 

It wasn’t so bad, really, Opal was quick and responsive and becoming increasingly affectionate and open. Opal was very inquisitive, and it didn’t take her much time at all to take to her lessons. He made sure to spend as much time out of doors with her as in to keep her interest. They explored by the creek some days, and Adam had to dissuade her not to try to eat any of the creatures they caught in their nets. Her manners were much slower to improve, and her seemingly pathological need to explore the world with her mouth made Adam wonder how on earth she had managed to survive this long. Well, she was very small for her age, which Blue had informed him was 8. Maybe Blue had had the same habit growing up, too. The thought made him chuckle.

Adam had found himself smiling and laughing more in the past few weeks that he ever had in his life. He hadn’t noticed at first, and it was a slow-growing form of happiness that took the form of a little girl perennially wearing too-big boots, a quirky and quick-witted woman, a massive house full of wonders, and plenty of delicious food to fill his stomach. He wondered how the master of the house had managed to so fill it with such and array of incredible--and seemingly impossible-- things. Mr. Lynch had seemed, in their brief meeting, a tempestuous but not an uncaring man. Had it been him who amassed such objects? Adam didn’t know much of the world, as much as it pained him to admit, so it was possible that the things he saw in this house were things that were written about in books he didn’t have access to in his strictly functional Lowood education. They were a great many incredibly strange things, though.

Adam had been reflecting on his latest discovery -- a chest that he had opened by mistake while helping Blue clean -- that smelled like a spring rain and seemed to emit a slight cool breeze. She had immediately corrected him and called him over to the right chest, but the puzzle of how such a thing could possibly be absorbed him one sunny morning in the school room. Opal was determinedly drawing out in clumsy cursive Adam, Blue, and Mr. Lynch’s names on her slate--his given name, as it turns out, was _Ronan_. It was such a strong and dramatic name that Adam could think of no other that would suit the handsome razor of man.

Adam sat across from Opal, chin resting on his hands, watching as she struggled to control the chalk. His mind was wandering, his deaf ear facing the door, so that it took him a moment to process that he was hearing what sounded like scuffling sounds out in the hall. He turned his good ear towards the door. Now he could hear voices in the distance, shouting--no, _calling_. 

Strange. The school room was located in an out-of-the-way, old wing of the house. No one came this way unless they were intentionally looking for Adam and Opal since most of the rooms were kept closed and curtained. It didn’t sound like clear and distinct footsteps either, rather a haphazard shuffling, creaking.

The sounds came closer and became more clear.

_Tck-tck-tck-tck_

A clacking sound rung out just outside the door.

Adam froze. It most certainly did not sound human. He looked back at Opal, who was still forming her favorite people’s names, tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. The voices drew closer. He was beginning to distinguish them now. Blue, for sure, and the other voice--?

Was it a dog or something? Chainsaw? He’d never seen any dogs here, and Chainsaw made a lot more noise than this shuffling. 

Adam got up and began to cross the room to the door. He had barely gotten out of his chair when he heard footsteps barrelling down the hallway. It seemed barely a second when the door slammed open, slammed shut, and Mr. Lynch stood panting, body blocking the door, hands spread across the frame. 

Adam stared at him in complete shock.

“Kerah!” Cried Opal joyfully, springing forward from her work to jump joyfully around him. “Kerah! Kerah! Did you bring me a present?” 

“The first thing you ask... when you see me is if.. I got… you a present?” Mr. Lynch gasped out. “Little pissant!”

“Mr. Lynch!” Adam interjected. “Whatever is the matter? What was that sound in the hallway?”

Mr. Lynch shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, welcome back to you, too. Best not to go out there right now-- God, Opal, your hands are all covered in chalk, don’t touch me--”

“RONAN!” That was Blue’s voice, not too far off.

“Stay here,” Mr. Lynch commanded, blue eyes piercing on Adam’s. He opened the door just enough for him to slip out before shutting it again.

Adam unashamedly moved to the door, putting his good ear towards it.

“You ugly bastard,” Mr. Lynch grumbled, barely audibly. “Why can’t you stay where you belong?”

Blue’s voice called out again to Mr. Lynch and he responded. In a few more moments, it was Blue who slipped inside the door.

“What in the world is going on?” Demanded Adam.

Blue looked him over briefly before grunting, “Dog,”

“A dog?”

“Yes, a dog followed Mr. Lynch home, and it isn’t particularly friendly to strangers, so stay inside the school room until he gets it wrangled.”

“A… dog?” Adam repeated again.

“Yes, that’s what I said!” Blue snapped. She turned to Opal, plastering a smile on her face. “Opal! Why don’t you show me your school work while we’re waiting, Adam says you’re doing so well!”

 _A dog?_ Adam wondered yet again, this time internally. Opal looked quite confused by the whole situation, but gleefully complied, shoving the slate into Blue’s hands. 

Adam’s mind spun. Whatever he wasn’t supposed to see out there must have been beyond the everyday wonders of the house. And he would find it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! We had way too much fun at Anime Boston and took some time to rest up, but we're excited to keep going! Thanks for being patient, and look forward to the next chapter, which is almost double the length of our previous ones! Things are gonna get good~
> 
> The book Adam is reading is The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon. What a nerd.
> 
> I apologize for any bad Latin from now on, I'm just google translating and hoping for the best!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentlefolk, we kindly present to you our longest chapter yet! Enjoy...

 

 

Adam had made inquiries of any dog associated with Mr. Lynch around the house.

First, he asked Blue about the dog, but she had waved him off with a grimace. He had insisted, saying that he needed to know if the dog would pose any danger to himself or Opal, if he needed to wary of it.

“Just… just don’t go off in the woods on the east side of the house and you’ll be fine,” Blue said firmly. “Now help me beat these carpets! Less talking, more beating!”

She had skirted the topic ever since.

Next, he had attempted to pin down the cook Noah, for him only to squeak and shake his head vigorously before burying his nose in decorating a cake.

Whatever it had been, it wasn’t a dog. Or not a normal dog, not the kind of dog you wanted the general public to know about. Was Mr. Lynch secretly breeding wolves to set on his neighbor’s sheep? Maybe it was a person who Mr. Lynch didn’t want him to meet.

His inquiries proving fruitless, he decided to move on to more concrete matters-- at least temporarily.

Opal had been making good progress lately, with her behavior as well as with her studies, and Adam felt it was a good time to introduce her into society a bit more. Not once had he seen her leave the grounds, not with Blue, when she went to purchase provisions for the household, not with Mr. Lynch when he took trips into town for reasons of his own. Adam himself had only been into town a few times, and was not overly familiar with the layout, but it was a busy area with a lot of interesting storefronts that might be a suitable diversion for his young pupil.

The poor thing was practically confined to the Lynch Estates, but hopefully now that would change. Adam would prove that Opal was capable of handling herself well in public, to herself as well as her guardian. He wanted to get her a little something, too, as a reward for doing so well.

Whe Opal made her way down to the study room that day, Adam greeted her with a smile and received a bright smile back, the young girl hopping into the room with no trace of the surly reticence that marked the early days of their acquaintance.

“Good morning, Opal.”  
  
“Good morning, Mr. Parrish!” She carried her book of letters to the desk they had set up, and scrabbled onto the chair with clumsy booted legs and the use of her elbows. “Letters?”

“We’ll have you read soon, but there’s something I would like to ask you first.” Adam said, taking the book from her hands and setting it on the desk. “How would you like to go into the town and enjoy the day with me? I thought perhaps we could bring Miss Blue and make it a proper outing.”

Opal’s eyes went wide. “Town? I can go?” She reached out and gripped his arm, shaking him with excitement. “I want to!”

Adam laughed and let her shake him. It warmed him to put a smile on her face, to know he was making a difference in her life. “I want to take you. We can go ask Blue to join us together, how’s that?” Opal turned and pushed herself off the chair immediately, tugging on Adam’s arm.

“Now! Let’s go now!”

Adam let her tug him out of the room, but then took the lead to go find Blue, checking each of the usual rooms, only to find her in the study, seated at the desk and working on what looked to be the household finances. He blinked a moment at the oddness before just taking it at face value. Nothing was ever done the way one would expect at the Thornfield Barns. Blue looked up at both of them and tilted her head.

“Hello, you two. What are you up to now?”

“Blue, Blue,” Opal ran up to the woman, taking one of her hands in both of hers and squeezing it. “Come with us!”

“I’m very busy right now, Opal. Where are you going?”

“Into the town!”

“Oh, the town! How exciting! Clearly Adam is a _much_ better influence than that boring old man you call your guardian.” Blue winked down at Opal, who snickered openly. “But I really do have too much to do today to go with you.” Blue was openly disappointed, but she suddenly perked up with a grin that set Adam on edge. What was she thinking?

“But you know who has _nothing_ to do today, and could use some excitement before he turns to dust?”

“ _Kerah!”_ Said Opal, laughing.

Blue’s eyes flicked to Adam, even as he raised his brows at the _very_ good imitation of Mr. Lynch’s pet bird. “Yes, Kerah, but that’s not his name, is it Opal?”

Opal pouted, “Kerah is Kerah. _Ronan_.”

Adam had not thought about inviting Mr. Lynch to come with them, and was, for a moment, unsure. He and Mr. Lynch were… mostly civil when they spoke, though they hardly ever did so. But Opal’s enthusiasm made him hold his tongue to any objections he might have made. He noticed Blue looking over with mischief in her eyes as she winked at him. Adam rolled his eyes.

“Shall we find dusty, old Mr. Lynch then, Opal?” Civility could be saved for when they were in each other’s comPany. Opal cackled and nodded, moving back towards Adam and taking his hand.

“Miss you, Blue.”

“Oh hush, as if you’ll have time to miss me with all the fun you’ll be having with your second and third favorite people.” Blue said in parting, as the two of them left to go find Ronan Lynch.

They found him in the sunroom, dozing in a patch of sunlight with the paper in his lap, lazily sprawled in his armchair, seemingly without a care in the world. Adam didn’t particularly want to wake him, he seemed so comfortable, but Opal had no such reservations and went up to him and patted his knee.

“Ronan. _Kerah_. Ronan! No dreaming. Come with us to town!”

Ronan furrowed his brows with his eyes closed and protested with a gruff, “Opal, get off. I’m sleeping.”

“ _Town,_ Ronan!” Opal insisted, grabbing his shirt with her tiny hands and tugging meaningfully.

Mr. Lynch finally deigned to open his eyes, and they fell first on Adam, standing back and watching this unfold with a small smile on his face. Noticing this, Adam attempted to smooth his face to a more neutral set, but before he could, he imagined he saw a small answering smile on Ronan’s lips. If it had truly happened, the smile was not there now.

“You cannot go to town, Opal.”  
  
“Adam is taking me. He said. So now you must come.”

Ronan flicked his eyes back to Adam again, frowning this time. “Oh he is, is he?”

“I am. I believe Opal’s behavior has come a long way, and I wanted to take her into town in part to see how well she can get along in society, but also to reward her for a job well done. She’s reading quite steadily, these days.” Adam was intensely proud of Opal for her accomplishments under his tutelage, and he knew she was, too. She was soaking up his instruction like a sponge.

Mr. Lynch looked at him unreadably for a long moment. “There’s a reason she doesn’t go into town.”

“And I believe that reason is well in hand. Opal is more well-adjusted than before, surely you have noticed?”

Mr. Lynch inclined his head, possibly in acknowledgement, though he said nothing. He looked to where Opal was attached to him, her eyes wide and pleading, and he sighed, pushing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Convince me.”

“I believe that a foray into town will allow Opal to see how a community works, so that she may understand why she needs to uphold all the societal rules I’ve been teaching her. She’s done well, but in a house such as this, the rules make little to no sense. I mean no offense, but your household is not a typical one by any means. Furthermore, she deserves a break, and a nice day exploring somewhere new would be exciting. Don’t you agree Opal?”

She nodded vigorously, her favorite black bonnet slipping down her sallow hair to rest at the nape of her neck. She clasped her hands and peeped up at her guardian through her messy bangs. “Very exciting. I’ll be good!”

“I’m sure you will,” Mr. Lynch said dryly, then straightened from his position and gave Adam a piercing look. “You’re certainly confident.”

Adam looked back steadily. “I know Opal.”

“So do I.” Said Mr. Lynch, “Are you telling me you think that I don’t care to keep up with her progress? That I don’t care?”

Adam shook his head, ears reddening the slightest bit with frustration, “That is not what I meant, I merely--”

“Don’t you think I want what’s best for her? It’s not that simple. There are things you don’t know.” Mr. Lynch crossed his arms.

“Then _tell_ me. Give me all of the facts so I can make good judgments!” Adam burst out, frustration bubbling through. Opal reached up to clutch at her ears, and he immediately felt awful. If only Blue had just agreed to come with them, this could have been avoided.

Mr. Lynch clenched his jaw and stayed silent for a good while, looking back and forth between Opal and Adam; Adam waited for him to explode. Amazingly, he didn’t.

“You’ve convinced me.” The words coming from Mr. Lynch’s mouth sounded like gravel. He put his hands over Opal’s and lightly tugged them away from her ears, saying in a softer tone, “I’m sorry, Opal.”

Adam swallowed down his own ill feeling and breathed out through his nose as Mr. Lynch stood up, holding Opal’s hand.

“Well then, Mr. Parrish. Take us into town.”

 

\-------

 

Opal could hardly contain herself in the carriage. Adam was perfectly contented with walking to town-- it was a good half hour walk over flat enough ground-- but Mr. Lynch had insisted on taking the carriage.

The whole situation was strange. Adam was sitting across from Mr. Lynch who was determinedly looking out the window, looking dour as ever, while Opal, jumping from side to side, tugged sometimes on Adam’s sleeves and sometimes on Mr. Lynch’s. Adam, having given up trying to get her to sit politely, resorted to watching her carefully to make sure she didn’t fall when the carriage hit a pothole. She knocked her oversized boots against the seat, exclaimed at every sight that passed by the carriage window, and tugged on the straps of her bonnet. Adam had to retie it no less than three times before he decided to wait to retie it when they arrived at the town.

Adam had been to the little town very rarely, having no need to post any letters (to whom would he write?) or purchase new clothes (his Lowood clothes were satisfactory). Even most of the household goods were handled by Blue and Noah, the chef, by delivery every other day. He had offered to help, only to have been shooed away.

The fact that he was sitting in a carriage, going on a pleasure trip into town with none other than his employer, acting as not only tutor but also nanny to a peculiar girl with a preternatural obsession with chewing, was a peculiar arrangement upon reflection. The fact that the housekeeper had been so bold to suggest it, and that the master of the house had agreed, was not what Adam had expected of a traditional English household of means.

Adam surreptitiously watched Mr. Lynch out of the corner of his eye.

A lot of mystery surrounded this man. Not just his unusual way of running a house, but the contents and makeup of said house. The strange occurance of the supposed dog a little over a week past had unsettled him quite a bit. But what could the explanation possibly be? Adam did not believe for a second it was a dog. And the strange things that were all about the house, even Mr. Lynch himself, his reticence, his intense eyes, how he disappeared and reappeared and prowled all over the estate. Even Opal’s infernal boots were a mystery. She must love them dearly because he had never, not once, seen her without them (maybe she even wore them to bed-- he hoped not, he’d have to ask Blue, who put her to bed every night that she deigned to sleep indoors). Mr. Lynch tended to turn up during his and Opal’s free time, watching them play off at a distance, not approaching close enough to talk.

Mr. Lynch was a strange master, of a rough personality, but he did not seem to Adam to be cold-hearted, despite their run-ins. He was also, Adam had to admit, a very handsome man, especially sitting here in the carriage, slumped elegantly, the filtered light hitting his cheekbones and sparkling light in his pale eyes just right. He was handsome in the way of a taught bow, beautiful but lethal.

Ronan shifted in his seat, turned to look at Adam, and Adam immediately turned away towards the window to point out some interesting bird to Opal, pinking slightly as he swore he saw Mr. Lynch grin in the periphery of his vision.

As they began to approach the busy little town, they encountered more and more people travelling the road along with them. Some workman walked past on foot, a farmer lumbered past with her mule cart, a small phaeton led by a very smart-looking grey pony and driven by two very smart-looking middle aged ladies, a stagecoach, and a young boy on a spotted pony accompanied by a great black dog were among the many they passed.  Opal was transfixed. She cried out every time she spotted someone, and asked many questions Adam couldn’t possibly imagine being able to answer: who they were, where they were going, what they were doing in town. Mr. Lynch seemed to simply ignore her.

Adam already felt exhausted. He had no clue how he was going to make it through town.

Mr. Lynch suddenly stirred from the immobile reverie. “Opal,” he said.

Opal turned to look at him. “ _Kerah?”_ She questioned.

“I understand that you are very excited. That is great; I am happy for you. But if you do not shut up for at least five minutes, I am quite sure Mr. Parrish will never even consider taking you into town ever again. I most _certainly_ will not.”

Opal’s eyes went huge, then she promptly shut her gaping mouth. She sat on her hands, as though that would somehow stop her mouth from moving.

Adam leaned back against the velvet cushions, relieved.

Opal stood transfixed out the window for a full minute before turning to Mr. Lynch, tugging on his sleeve.

“Has it been five minutes yet?” She whispered loudly.

Mr. Lynch groaned. Adam snorted.

\--------

 

Adam had had a very stern conversation with Opal in the carriage before they got out. He had gotten her to promise to not run off, to hold his or Mr. Lynch’s hand at all times, to not be too loud or stare too long at people, and, most emphatically, not to chew anything that Adam or Mr. Lynch had not given her permission expressly to eat. This last bit seemed to cause some consternation, but she readily agreed after some ringing of hands and glances in Mr. Lynch’s direction.

“I have no idea why you’re looking at me,” he grunted. “Listen to your tutor.”

They mostly walked about town, Mr. Lynch stopping and talking to some of his tenants while Opal marvelled at the various goods -- from fantastically feathered bonnets to bins of charcoal, she admired it all. She seemed equal part trepidatious and bold as she walked right up to the shops but shied away from a flag in the breeze. Adam mostly let her do what she wanted, wanting Mr. Lynch to see how she handled going about on her own, and was pleased to see that she acted no more strangely than the average excited child.

When Mr. Lynch was made to stop and chat with his acquaintances (of which he had several, though he seemed thoroughly displeased to see them), Opal stood behind him and clutched at Adam’s hand, looking at the men and women with thinly veiled curiosity and suspicion. Adam, himself, was also introduced when people made enquiries as to his presence, and he did his best to be unfailingly polite, even when some questions leveled at him were rather tactless. Mr. Lynch, at least, seemed just as irritated at those people and made their excuses rather rudely and moved on with his ward and Adam in tow.

“How some people do not understand when their polite conversation becomes impolite is a mystery to me.” Mr. Lynch groused, pulling at Adam’s shoulder to push him ahead with Opal, still well within earshot of the couple they had been conversing with. Adam could not help but smile slightly to himself; he hadn’t cared for them, and they certainly had not cared for him, so this show of incivility was well received. Mr. Lynch simply walked through the world and the world bent to his whims, it seemed, and Adam was both impressed by and envious of him for it.

Opal chattered happily at Mr. Lynch as they made their way to the more fashionable district where storefronts proudly exhibited their finest garments and fabrics for a higher class of lords and ladies. Blue had charged them with their only real task for the day, which was to find fabric for a dress for Opal, one suitable for finer events. Opal was to choose the fabric. Adam had had his reservations; Blue dismissed them claiming that a child should have control over some things in her life, and a dress was a perfectly innocent thing to let her handle. Adam had thought that Opal had _too_ much control over the things that happened in her life, but he held his tongue.

Mr. Lynch was not the type to spoil Opal, refusing to buy her any of the things she pointed to in the street stalls, no matter how hard she pleaded with her hands and her eyes. Despite that, he had no qualms bringing her into what was obviously a very expensive establishment for new clothes. Even the shopkeepers were visibly surprised when Mr. Lynch explained that he wanted fabrics for his young ward, and not for himself. Expensive fabrics for children were a waste -- they got too small and too dirty much too fast. The merchants’ professionalism fell quickly into place, and they bowed Mr. Lynch and Opal in and within moments had them surrounded by an array of lovely bright fabrics for Opal to choose from.

Opal, though, gave them all the barest of glances before wandering off further into the shop on her own, determined to choose something that was more to her liking. Mr. Lynch folded his arms across his chest and watched her go, making no move to follow. The shopkeepers appeared uneasy, but Mr. Lynch’s intense expression kept them from moving anywhere. Adam waited next to Mr. Lynch, trying not to show his slight worry.

Minutes ticked by, and all they could hear from the back of the store was the quiet _thump_ of fabric knocking against fabric. It was when they heard a wet, chewing sound that Adam and Mr. Lynch shared a look and strode towards where their charge had disappeared to, the proprietress of the shop following quickly.

Opal had been behaving herself quite admirably prior to the excursion to the fabric store. But unfortunately, she apparently couldn’t help herself any longer, and they caught her in the back gnawing on a bolt of burgundy corduroy. There was a swathe of fabric clutched in her hands, as well, twice the size of her at least. Adam groaned as the proprietress gave a short shriek at the sight. Opal looked up and broke into a grin, half-chewed fabric dangling from her lips. She trotted over to them and handed her guardian the fabric she had picked out.

Opal had chosen for her new dress a particularly hideous yet immensely expensive bolt of brocaded silk. It was in a most lurid shade of green and decorated by misshapen figures Adam supposed were meant to be people--but could have been dogs? Instead of becoming upset, as Adam feared, Mr. Lynch simply gave a nod to her choice, and brought it and the chewed bolt of corduroy over to the front to purchase. Adam couldn’t fathom being able to buy such an expensive fabric so flippantly. He would like to be able to do that one day, too.

Adam knew his expression was morose, as they stepped out into the sun once more. He couldn’t help it. They had come on this excursion on Adam’s insistence in that he knew Opal’s limits and what she would be able to handle, in terms of social interaction. This had been an enormous blunder, he knew. He could only imagine what Mr. Lynch must be thinking of him right now. Adam only hoped that Opal would not be berated later on, and that Mr. Lynch did not take her behavior to mean that she should not be brought out into society again.

“Mr. Parrish.”

The sound of his employer’s voice brought Adam back from his worrisome thoughts, though the unreadable look that Mr. Lynch was giving him made him nervous.

“Yes, Mr. Lynch?”

“Just what is causing you to look so grim?”

Adam opened his mouth to protest, then stopped and shook his head. “I want to apologize. I made promises that I could not keep.” Mr Lynch’s stormy gaze bored into him, but Adam forged on “Please do not punish Opal for what happened, she has worked hard for this and really it was only _one_ slip-up out of the whole day, and--”

“Is that what you’re worried about? Opal?” Mr. Lynch interrupted, his tone speculative.

“I-- yes.” Adam wanted to add more, wanted to defend Opal, who was watching them converse with a corner of the corduroy fabric firmly between her teeth.

“Hm.” There was a slight uplift to Mr. Lynch’s brows, “I thought you’d be more worried about keeping your position, since you failed to live up to your objective.”

That had only occurred to Adam passively; he had been more worried for Opal’s continued happiness, but now anxiety twisted in his gut and he held his breath. His mind swam. He didn’t want to leave. He liked this job, he liked Opal, and Blue, and he even liked Mr. Lynch most times. But had he given Mr. Lynch the push he needed to get rid of him like the man had wanted in the beginning?

“But I can’t fault you for this.” Mr. Lynch continued, surprising Adam. “I told you that Opal was different -- a handful. Wild. But she has been better behaved today than I have ever seen her before, and that is thanks to your influence, I believe.” Mr. Lynch put his hand on Opal’s head, tweaking her bonnet and making her frown up at him. “Chewing on a little fabric is nothing in comparison. Where your worries lay attests to your character, Mr. Parrish.”

Overwhelmed, Adam could only nod.

 

\--------

 

They took tea at the local inn before they departed. Opal had taken one look at the interior of the inn and had been determined to go there, refusing to budge until they went inside. Mr. Lynch had been extremely reluctant -- the inn dining room was decorated so garishly with frippery baubles and lace that it offended his every sense.

Mr. Lynch eschewed the fantastically decorated table in the middle of the room offered to him immediately, and instead insisted they take a simple table next to a window. This was a wise decision as it kept Opal from running about the room by being blocked against the window by Ronan’s body. She instead busied herself with staring at the people crossing back and forth beyond the thick panes.

“Opal, this place is an affront,” Mr. Lynch said, looking around with distinct discomfort, sitting gingerly in his chair as if he couldn’t relax. Adam sank into the plushly lined seats with a grateful sigh, relishing the sight of Opal placing a pink lace napkin into Ronan Lynch’s lap. Seeing the dark man in this sort of environment was novel; Mr Lynch was completely out of place.

“This is Opal’s outing,” Adam pointed out, as Opal gave her order to the waitress, ordering as many sweets as she could get away with before Mr. Lynch snapped that he would leave her in town if she ate all that.

“You’re spoiling her, Parrish.”

“It’s only tea, Mr. Lynch.”

“This tea is going to ruin my reputation.” The man groused. Adam hid a chuckle as their tea and cakes were brought over, in equally pink floral teacups and saucers. Mr. Lynch visibly shuddered, glaring at their server. Deciding it was in all of their best interests to keep Mr. Lynch distracted, Adam tried to draw him into conversation.

“Well, this place is certainly very...interesting. I must say though, that I infinitely prefer the sitting room at Thornfield Barns.”

Mr. Lynch’s brow cleared for a moment, thoughts of home clearly lifting his spirits, but the thundercloud over his head returned very quickly. “So do I. Which is why I don’t understand why we’re sitting here instead of at home in comfort.”

That hadn’t worked. Adam let the silence settle as he sipped at his tea, casting around for something else to say. Opal was already enjoying her cake, eating with a fork and everything.

“The Thornfield Barns _are_ unlike any other home I’ve ever come across,” Adam finally says, catching Mr. Lynch’s eyes just as the man takes an indelicate swig of tea from the small cup. “It has a beauty I’ve rarely seen anywhere.”

“...My father had it built for my mother,” Mr. Lynch said, almost reluctantly, eyes going distant. “Said she deserved to live in a house only as beautiful and whimsical as she was.”

Adam was surprised that Mr. Lynch was sharing this much information about his life. He was usually so tight lipped about his family, and everyone else in the household skirted the topic.

“That’s lovely,” Adam said. And he meant it, though he couldn’t imagine two people being that much in love. He wasn’t sure his parents had ever really been in love, and they had certainly never made any grand romantic gestures towards each other. Or even little ones. Mr. Lynch’s expression had softened as he spoke, and it struck Adam that he looked much younger without his near-permanent scowl.

Mr. Lynch even smiled at him -- very little, but a smile nonetheless -- and finally reached out to spear some cake onto his fork. “They were completely mad, of course. It took years and years to finish; so long that my elder brother was able to help with the designs in the end. But it was all worth it. There is nothing like the Barns. There never will be again.”

There was a strange ache in Adam’s chest. It wasn’t all envy, though that was part of it. The fierceness with which Mr. Lynch loved his home was evident, and it made Adam yearn for…. _something_. Something to call home, something to love….

Mr. Lynch cleared his throat. “And now that the house is mine, I’ve also made a few additions, with the help of my younger brother, Matthew. And Opal.”

Opal looked up at the sound of her name, looking between the two men in confusion. She obviously had not been paying them any mind, and was already done with her slice of cake. She was also currently eating Adam’s.

“Hey, runt!” Mr. Lynch had noticed, and he tugged at one of her bonnet ribbons in admonishment. “Don’t steal others’ food. _Ask_ first. Parrish is soft enough to share with you anyway.”

Adam didn’t deny it, but he nodded at Opal. “It’s bad manners to take others’ things without asking. That includes food, Opal.”

“Use your brain, Opal. Now what is he going to eat?” Opal looked down, sufficiently penitent, and pushed the half-eaten cake back towards Adam. Mr. Lynch sighed. “Okay, second lesson. Don’t bother returning damaged goods, either. “ He raised a hand to flag down a server and ordered Adam another cake, though he tried to protest. “Save it, Parrish. This one’s from Opal.”

The young girl nodded in agreement. “Yes, for Mr. Parrish. I’m sorry.” She leaned over and kissed the top of Adam’s hand where it lay on the table. Adam wasn’t too surprised; she was affectionate like that sometimes, and it was rather nice. Mr. Lynch raised his eyebrows though.

“That’s more sorry than you’ve ever been for me,” The man drawled.

“I like Mr. Parrish more.” She said impishly, peeping up at him.

Mr. Lynch only huffed and went back to eating his own cake, sharing a glance with Adam, who knew there was a silly smile on his face. He couldn’t help it; he was so fond of this young girl.

Opal had grown quiet while they were eating, staring out at the crowds turning past. Adam was extremely grateful for that fact.

“Look, Mr. Parrish, look!” Opal cried out. She had been silent for quite some time, so her cry startled him. “He’s all white!”

And indeed he was. Opal had pointed out a man dressed head-to-toe in a white suit with a shiny silver walking stick. He was flanked by four men dressed in expensive-looking black suits walking on the opposite side of the street in front of their window. Mr. Lynch turned to follow where Opal had been pointing and immediately blanched.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he whispered, immediately turning his face. “I _do not_ want to deal with him today!”

Adam was about to remind Mr. Lynch that he should not be using such language in front of Opal, but he stopped when he realized the white-clad figure had indeed noticed Mr. Lynch and was making his way to the inn.

“He’s coming in,” Adam observed.

“ _What?_ Fuck-- _”_

The door banged open.

_“_ RONAN LYNCH!” A voice sneered loudly.

All eyes turned to the doorway. The guests, the barmaids, the busboys, all froze mid-movement and mid-conversation to stare at the glaring white figure in the doorway.

“Ronan! Lynch!”

Mr. Lynch groaned.

_“Kavinsky.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We just couldn't bear to split this chapter up. It'd be too boring otherwise! But more importantly, we present unto you KAVINSKY, in all his slimy glory. Gosh, we love him.


	6. Chapter 6

The gaunt figure came and stood directly in front of the table, both hands balanced on the head of the silver cane. The tall white hat was emblazoned with an array of white feathers, and he sported an ivory-rimmed monocle. The four men with him--obviously his cronies-- shuffled in behind him, snickering.

“I behold a mythical beast, a legend, a sight scarcely seen! Haven’t been to my races in an age, we have missed you oh-so-very-much, Mr. Lynch,”

Adam had to admit this man didn’t seem entirely sane.

“And who is this?” The man’s eyes fell on Adam. He had to restrain himself from flinching as the man’s eyes slinked over him. It made him feel strangely exposed. “Lynch, you got a new boy paramour? What happened to Gansey? You still keeping him on the side too? And look, a child! She yours? Didn’t think women were your thing, Lynch.”

The tendons in Mr. Lynch’s neck were popping, he leaned forward aggressively, his body taught. Opal hid her face in Mr. Lynch’s arm and whimpered.

“ _Kavinsky,”_ Mr. Lynch growled, low and threatening.

Kavinsky feigned shock.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Lynch, I hardly meant to _offend_.” The man crept closer and leaned down towards Mr. Lynch’s face. Adam saw the very real danger of Mr. Lynch punching this man with very little warning.

“You should come visit again, Mr. Lynch. You and I have a lot in common, you know. A. Lot. In. Common.” He hitched his mouth up in a half smile, took Mr. Lynch’s half-drunk cup tea in his hand, and drained it while staring at him.

Adam saw Mr. Lynch’s hand atop the table curl into a fist and start to lift, so he quickly leant forward and placed his hand on top of his to stop him. “Mr. Lynch, I believe your tea has been contaminated. Shall I order us some more?” Adam caught the man’s gaze and tilted his head to the side where Opal was pressed tightly against Mr. Lynch, trying to communicate that a fight would not be the best option at this juncture. It was a few moments before Adam felt the hand beneath his relax, and he pulled back when he realized how long it had been. He was suddenly very aware of the implications of what Kavinsky had said. _Boy paramour_.

“Yes, please.” Mr. Lynch smirked at Adam, completely ignoring Kavinsky, who was staring furiously between the two of them. Adam raised his hand to call over the server, and Kavinsky took the opportunity to spin a chair away from the table next to them so he could seat himself at theirs. Adam grit his teeth. He already intensely disliked this man. How in the world did Mr. Lynch know him?

“There’s a race tonight. You’re coming, right Lynch?” Kavinsky sneered, leaning into the other man’s space, despite Mr. Lynch’s answering scowl. “I know you can’t say no to a bit of fun. You _love_ it. And I know you’re itching for it. How long has it been since the last one? A few months? Your blood’s got to be _boiling_ for it.” Kavinsky licked his lips, his lids lowering over his eyes. He would almost look indolent, if not for the sharpness of his eyes beneath his lashes.

“ _Leave_ , Kavinsky. I’m not coming to your fucking races tonight.” Mr. Lynch snapped quickly, eyes darting to meet Adam’s before going back to the man in white. “You can break your neck all by yourself, you don’t need me there to do it for you.”

“Given a lot of thought to my neck, huh, Lynch?” Kavinsky said easily, winking at the man. His lips curled up in a lurid grin “Not coming. Sure. As if you could stop yourself.”

Adam could see Opal try to fit herself further into Mr. Lynch’s side and the man put his arm around her protectively. Mr. Lynch was becoming angrier, Kavinsky was getting under his skin. Adam was out of his depth. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He just wanted the horrific man gone.

“I’m telling you now that I have stopped myself. Kavinsky, because your shit company is not exactly what I’d call a draw.”

Kavinsky smiled with all his teeth, unfazed. “You tell yourself that, Lynch, later tonight when you’re bored and restless, at home with _these_ fuckers,” He flicked a wrist towards Adam and Opal dismissively, “and those damn thoughts come rushing back in. They will. They always do. And then all you’ll think about will be the _rush_ , the _race_ , and you’ll come running to me. You want to know how I know? _I’m in your head, Lynch._ ” Kavinsky stood and leaned over the table, tapping two fingers hard against Mr. Lynch’s temple. “I’m the only one here that knows you; that knows what you need. You know that.”

Mr. Lynch snapped his hand out and grabbed Kavinsky’s wrist in a crushing grip. “Get. Out.” He growled through clenched teeth, “You ass, don’t talk like you’re better than anyone at this table. You’re _scum_.” Mr. Lynch tossed Kavinsky’s hand away from him violently, which only made him laugh, though he did start backing away slowly, arrogant swagger in full form. Adam couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t refute what Kavinsky said about knowing him.

“See you later, _Ronan_.” And he walked out, twirling his cane.

Opal waited until he left and then hissed in his direction. It was a very good hiss, snakes would be jealous. Adam did not reprimand her; he wanted to do the same.

“ _Fuck_.” Mr. Lynch swore, leaning back in his chair, uncaring of the many eyes on them after that whole scene. He caught Adam’s eye and frowned. “Fucking asshole. Opal, are you alright?”

“I hate that man!” Opal piped up, glaring gloriously. Her whole face was scrunched up with the expression.

“Me too.” Mr. Lynch muttered, reaching to his wallet and pulling out enough money to cover their bill. “Come; let’s go home.”

 

\--------

 

Despite her agitation in the inn, Opal had drifted off on Adam’s lap almost as soon as the carriage started moving. She had practically ripped Adam’s arm off dragging him to the carriage, and Adam would have scolded her had her eyes not been the size of dinner plates and she was shaking ever so slightly from fear.

Mr. Lynch was in a tremendously terrible mood. Adam had thought disgruntlement to be his natural state, but this was something beyond it: his arms were crossed, a vein popped on his forehead, and he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw as he glared out the window. He was _seething_.

Oh, this had been such a terrible idea! Adam was berating himself-- he wouldn’t be shocked at all if Opal went back to avoiding him after this. She would, at the very least, never want to go back to town! And Mr. Lynch had been so reluctant-- he had tried to warn him, clearly, but Adam in his pigheadedness decided to push on anyways. He had never been this willful at Lowood. He had done exactly what was asked of him, and did not push further. The path of least resistance led to the least conflict, he had resolved that quite a long time ago, back when his father beat him and his mother watched. _Just keep your head down, Adam. Just stay out of the way._ This had all been his fault.

“Mr. Lynch?” Adam hazarded quietly. Mr. Lynch’s head snapped towards him so quickly and violently that Adam flinched by reflex. He stared at Adam for a few moments as though remembering who he was.

“What is it, Parrish?” He finally grumbled, rubbing his forehead. “Spit it out.”

“I’m sorry,” Adam mumbled, staring at the tassels hanging off one of the cushions.

“What’s that?”

“I’m sorry,” Adam repeated, louder, still staring at the cushions.

Mr. Lynch was silent. Adam finally looked up, expecting to see Mr. Lynch even more furious that before, but instead saw him with his brow knitted.

Finally, Mr. Lynch said, “Did you steal something?”

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Did you break something?”

“No, no I didn’t break anything!”

“Well then explain to me why the fuck you are apologizing because I cannot figure it out,” Mr. Lynch’s mouth had twisted downward in impatience at Adam.

“Well, it’s because this trip-- it was… it was a bad idea. You tried to warn me, and I insisted we come anyways--”

“So did you invite that bastard in?”

“No--”

“Then why are you apologizing?” Ronan growled.

“But, Mr. Lynch, I insisted--”

“None of the reasons I had for not wanting Opal to come into town had to do with you, get that through your head this instant. God, Parrish, for someone who is supposed to be so smart, you are an idiot.”  

“But you knew you might run into that man, that Kavinsky, and that’s why you didn’t want to come, isn’t it?”

“Kavinsky?” Mr. Lynch scoffed. “He is the least of my concerns when it comes to Opal coming into town, though I absolutely despise him. There were many other things I was afraid of, not the least of which was Opal sewing the seeds of destruction throughout the town and then perhaps the townsfolk coming to Thornfield Barns with their torches and pitchforks to burn the both of us at the stake.”

Adam finally let out a small laugh. “Opal may be destructive, but I hardly think that constitutes witchcraft, Mr. Lynch.”

A strange expression darkened Mr. Lynch’s face for the briefest of moments before vanishing.

“Though I suppose,” Adam continued, “there are such a large number of wonders in the house. I suppose the superstitious may believe it to be supernatural.”

“And you?” There was a strange tone to Mr. Lynch’s voice that made Adam tilt his head slightly.

“I am not superstitious, if that’s what you’re asking,” Adam responded. “But I am _suspicious_. Mr. Lynch, I must ask you that if you are keeping a creature-- a dog, as it is-- so dangerous as to keep it hidden, is it really best to keep it around a young child? Especially one who likes to roam like Opal?”

 **“** Call me Ronan.”

Adam blinked, shocked at the sudden change in topic.

“Stop calling me Mr. Lynch; it’s tiresome.” Mr. Lynch shifted impatiently.

“Alright. If you wish me to." Adam replied uncertainly.

"I do. And," _Ronan's_ eyes flashed. "It'll drive Kavinsky _mad._ "

"Then by all means,” Adam spread his hands out magnanimously, “call me Adam."

Ronan's answering grin set Adam alight 

“But I must insist for the safety of my pupil, the dog--”

“Enough about this damn dog, drop it, Parrish!”

“Adam,” Adam corrected.

“You’re a little shit, you know that, right?” Ronan said, exasperated. “There’s absolutely nothing to worry about. You just keep going on teaching Opal and keep your nose out of my business and everything will be fine. You’ll be _safe._ ” 

 _Safe? A strange way to word it,_ Adam thought to himself. _A strange way indeed._

Adam wanted to ask him many many more things, about how the objects in the house worked, about Opal’s past, about Mr.-- _Ronan_  himself, but he could tell by the set of his jaw and the return of the glower that the conversation was well and truly finished. He set himself busy by tucking Opal’s shawl more securely around her as she slept, and then watched the fading light outside the carriage window and contemplated the mystery that was Ronan Lynch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, spatial awareness is a Thing(tm). An honest-to-goodness Thing(tm). A Thing(tm) that will drive Katsudonna mad if eternalarrow isn't careful!!
> 
> AND NOW WE CAN FINALLY STOP TYPING MR. LYNCH AND WRITE RONAN WE COULD CRY TEARS OF JOY!


	7. Chapter 7

After the rather disastrous end to their outing, the three went their separate ways. Opal ran off onto the grounds as soon as the carriage stopped at the front, Ronan retreated quickly into the house, and Adam decided to go for a walk in the gardens to clear his mind. The place never failed to soothe Adam’s frayed nerves. There was something about the atmosphere, calm and warm, that offered comfort. Like a blanket of good feeling that he could slip underneath when he stepped under the arbors overflowing with lush fauna.

 

The breeze was pleasant as it ruffled through his hair, and Adam could feel himself calming down in slow increments. He did not even know why he was so shaken; he had come across worse than the likes of Kavinsky, and Ronan already allayed any fears he had of having ruined the outing. So why, then, did he feel so thrown off-balance?

 

_ Boy Paramour _ .

 

The words made his stomach flip, but it wasn’t quite that. No, it was something as yet unnameable, something he couldn’t put his finger on, and so he was determined to put it aside for the time being. There was nothing he could do without first pinpointing the issue, so it would have to wait.

 

With the decision made, Adam took a deep breath and walked deeper into the garden at a leisurely pace. Thoughts of the outing crept back in, but they were good ones, remembering Opal’s wide smile at the newness of everything, her curiosity and happiness. And even Mr. Lynch’s -- Ronan’s -- company had been pleasant, all things considered.

 

“Adam! You’re back!”

 

Adam turned to see the cook, Noah, step around a cluster of manicured hedges while waving, a bright smile on his face.

 

“Mr. Czerny, hello.” Adam responded with a smile and wave of his own.

 

“Oh please, it’s Noah, remember? I’m a cook, not a Lord.” Noah corrected him with a laugh.

 

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve respect,” Adam said.

 

“True. But I’d rather not be called ‘Mr. Czerny’ by my friends, either.”

 

And how could Adam argue with that logic? He was suffused with a warmth that chased all remnants of bad feeling away. Here at the Thornfield Barns, he felt more welcome and at home than anywhere else he had lived previous. He had  _ friends _ , real friends who saw him as he was and liked him for it, and an employer who...liked him well enough. Adam didn’t really know where he stood with Ronan half the time. The man was just as abrasive as he had been when Adam had first met him, and yet somehow over the weeks he felt  _ included in _ rather than the subject of Ronan’s own brand of vitriol.

 

“Adam?”

 

“Oh,” Adam flustered, smiling quickly at Noah, “Pardon me, I was just...thinking. I’m happy that you think of me as a friend, Noah.”

 

“Adam Parrish, you say the strangest things sometimes,” Noah said pleasantly, “I don’t do it consciously, I just  _ feel _ it.”

 

“Yes, of course. I know.” Now Adam felt slightly awkward, and couldn’t think of a good thing to say next. He cast about in his mind, his eyes scanned their surroundings for something to jog his brain when Noah cut in again.

 

“I also am happy that you think of me as a friend, Adam.” Adam smiled again, appreciatively. “The gardens have been recently tended, and there are some beautiful new flowers further in. Have you seen them yet?”   
  


“Oh, no, not yet.” Adam was wont to sit on the sheltered benches just a bit further in; he would sit there and read, but had not explored the whole of the gardens -- they were vast and winding, and he feared he would be lost without some sort of marker or guide.

 

“Then shall I show you? Unless you have pressing matters to attend to. Or pressing young  _ Opal’s _ to attend to.”

 

Adam shook his head and followed as Noah led him leisurely back the way he had come, “No, not at the moment. Opal, Ronan and I just returned from an outing into town.”   
  
“To town, really? I’m surprised Ronan allowed it. You must have some sort of magic about you, Adam,” Noah said, nudging Adam in the ribs as they walked side-by-side, “Ronan’s mind is not easily changed, and he made this stipulation nearly as soon as Opal arrived here.”

 

“It was hardly magic,” Adam protested, though he did feel a swell of pride to hear it. “It was logic. Ronan saw how much progress Opal has made in the recent weeks and was willing to make changes based on that.”

 

“Mm, is that so?” Was all Noah said, sounding distracted as he led Adam down a shaded pathway, the trees in this area densely packed and bright with white blossoms. A swathe of petals detached in the wind and spun around them, landing in their hair lightly as they went further down the long path, patterned tiles giving way to soft grass beneath their feet as the walkway opened up into an area that felt out of place in the manicured gardens. It was so  _ green _ , and it seemed as if the sun was shining down directly onto the grass and flowers that stretched up towards the sky.

 

The trees that lined the area were heavy with fruit and flower, the grass was lush and just trimmed enough to not look messy. There were thick carpets of flowers in swirling patterns and unusual colors,  He recognized some of the flowers from the house, but some were completely foreign and entirely too beautiful to be believed.

 

“Noah, what part of the garden is this? It’s beautiful.” Adam asked, looking around with wonder. The breeze picked up and wafted a clean, mossy scent around them, a scent that leeched any and all tension from Adam’s shoulders. Noah spread his arms and grinned widely at Adam.

 

“It’s the one place Ronan tends himself. It  _ is _ beautiful, isn’t it? It’s always been my favorite.” And somehow, that made absolute sense; that this wonderfully wild foliage was the result of Ronan’s care and guiding hand. The creativity and splendor of this place felt as if the outside world couldn’t touch it.

 

As untouchable and beautiful as Ronan Lynch himself.

 

Adam wandered further into the space, gently touching flowers along the way, closing his eyes against the warmth of the sun and the fluttering breeze. It was so peaceful here, he never wanted to leave. “Thank you for showing this to me. It’s lovely.”

 

Noah was silent for long enough that Adam opened his eyes again and turned, finding the man standing with a curious smile on his face, head tilted as if he was listening to something. The breeze rushed in Adam’s ears as it picked up, and Noah smiled wider and laughed a little to himself; it was all very strange.

 

“Noah?”   
  


“Oh! Sorry Adam, I was just thinking. Listening to the wind, and all that. I’m glad you like it, perhaps we can come out here for a picnic one day, with Blue and Opal and Ronan?”

 

“I think that sounds very fine.” A very pleasant prospect indeed, thought Adam, turning back to the garden, feeling a gentle pull that made him want to sit down in the grass and just drift away. “Very fine, indeed.”

 

\-----

 

Ronan did not show for dinner that evening. Ronan usually didn’t take meals with Opal, Blue, and Adam. This was not out of any of sense propriety, since, as Ronan had proved time and time again, he had little to no reservations on that front. Rather, it was out of the fact that Ronan kept odd hours-- as had Opal, until after a few weeks Adam was able to maintain a regulated system of meals and sleep as was important to the health and welfare of a growing child. Ronan, despite Adam’s silent disapproval, seemed to be almost constantly off-schedule, sleeping during odd hours and taking a cold supper in the early hours of the morning. 

 

Adam was relieved to find that Opal loudly and excitedly retold her adventures during the day to Blue (all while Adam had to prod her to  _ chew _ her food, take a breath, slow down). Opal went back and forth and meandered and generally caused the story to become so confused that any semblance of logic was lost. In the weeks he had known Blue, he had not known her to be a patient person, but with Opal, she sat and listened and asked questions seriously. 

 

“Then we went to the place with the tea and all the frilly things, and I was eating a cake, and it was very yummy, but I ate it all and then I ate Mr. Parrish’s so there was none left for you, and then a very icky person came in and ruined my fun,” she wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t like him  _ at all _ , and Ronan didn’t either, and he smelled like a thief, and he made Ronan very, very angry.” 

 

She took a big bit of her food before adding, “I was definitely going to tell him he was very bad and kick him in the knees but he ran away first.” 

 

Adam raised his eyebrows and Opal determinedly avoided his gaze. He decided not to call her out on fibbing just now, but would definitely have a discussion with her about what constituted the truth and constituted a lie before letting Blue tuck her in to bed tonight.

 

Blue froze in the middle of eating a piece of asparagus. She held it aloft, almost to her mouth, but her gaze was fixed on Opal.

 

“A very bad man, you said?” Blue asked carefully. “Who smelled like a thief?”

 

“Yes, and he was dressed alllllll in white!” Opal spread out her hands expansively and dramatically, almost flinging her fork.

 

“Ronan called him Kavinsky,” Adam added quietly.

 

“KAVINSKY?” Blue exclaimed, setting down her forkful of asparagus with a clatter. “Of course it was-- wait,  _ Ronan?  _ You know what, we’ll discuss that later, don’t think you will weasel out of it, but you saw  _ Kavinsky _ in town? At a respectable inn? What was he doing there? He spoke to Ronan? They didn’t kill each other?” 

 

“It seemed like they wanted to,” Adam answered, “Kavinsky spotted us through the window. Brought a whole posse with him. Kept challenging Ronan to a race, don’t know what kind though.” Adam grimaced. “He seemed quite an unsavory character. He called me-- well, he referred to me as being...  _ of interest _ to Ronan, so to speak.”

 

“ _ Of interest? _ “ Blue parroted, mouth twisting at Adam’s euphemism. “Well, if anything, Kavinsky is probably jealous. And you’re right, he is an extremely unsavory character. I cannot stand that bas-- that jerk,” she quickly corrected herself. 

 

Then her face changed, expression dragging downward, worried rather than angered. “He challenged him to a race, you said? Have you seen Ronan recently?”

 

“Not since the afternoon,” Adam said, frowning, “I saw him near the stables. You don’t think--?”

 

The hiss that escaped Blue mouth was all the answer he needed.

 

\-----  


 

Ronan did not show up for supper either. Blue had checked the stables only to find that Ronan had in fact taken a team of his best horses and a phaeton out, not saying when he would return. Adam went to bed, and laid up late listening hard for the tread of Ronan’s feet along the hall.

 

Adam heard nothing. He finally drifted off to sleep, staring at the dark fabric of the curtains around his bed, wondering what would possess Ronan to play right into the hands of someone he so clearly despised. 

 

He was awoken early in the morning by the loud chorus of birds outside in the weak early dawn light as well as the sound of uneven steps dragging down the hallway. Immediately awake, he threw off the bedclothes and bounded to the door, heart racing--  _ why was he so nervous, Ronan was a grown man--  _ he threw open the door.

 

“Ronan?” He asked in a loud whisper. 

 

“Mmmmmmm,” responded a low moan. 

 

And there he was, Ronan Lynch, propping himself against the wall, face red, eyes bleary, unable even to stay upright, and drunk out of his mind. Adam’s heart sunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this new chapter, my lovelies! 
> 
> We def needed more Noah, so we added more Noah! WHO DOESN'T WANT MORE NOAH?!


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning at the breakfast table, it was just Adam, Blue, and Opal. Opal was acting as usual; she had been asleep when Ronan had returned to the house, and was blissfully unaware of the tense atmosphere. Blue and Adam were quiet as they ate, their eyes flickering towards the doorway warily for signs of their head of house. Neither were sure if he would even wake at a reasonable hour, he had been so utterly foxed last night.

It had taken both Adam and Blue both forcefully taking Ronan under each arm and guiding him through the house, stumbling and growling angrily at them both, to get him to bed. The man had been churlish and unhappy, insisting he didn’t need their assistance, constantly trying to push them off and stumbling blindly into the walls when he did so. It took everything Adam had to just grit his teeth and say nothing, despite the disgust and frustration that welled up inside him. Perhaps he had no business feeling that way, but it was what he felt and he couldn’t help it. 

The stink of alcohol that had clung to Ronan made him remember too many unpleasant things from his childhood, and after meeting Kavinsky, Adam knew that the two had been up to nothing good. Adam did not know what to think. Ronan in the daytime had been adamant against all Kavinsky had said, denouncing him and stating with all apparent truthfulness that he wanted nothing to do with him. Ronan at night, however, had seemingly had no qualms about joining the other man for the kind of distasteful enjoyments he had been peddling at the Inn.

The clatter of dishes roused Adam from his unhappy musings and he turned to Opal, who was smiling widely up at him and Blue.

“I’ve finished breakfast!  May I go outside and play?” She gave both of them her sweetest smile and batted her lashes up at them. Adam and Blue shared a look that clearly said they didn’t believe that innocent look for a second before Blue spoke up.

“You may, Opal, but just stay safe. Take Noah with you, alright?”

Opal pouted, but everyone knew Noah was wrapped around her little finger; he would allow her to do anything and was more for decoration than anything else. “Okay. Thank you, Miss Blue.” Opal hopped up and kissed Blue’s cheek and curtsied prettily before bounding out the door.

“Well...that was either thanks to your  _ incredible _ influence, Adam, or our dear Opal is up to something.” Blue said wryly as she and Adam both stared after the young girl with amused expressions.

“I do not believe my influence could ever be  _ that _ good,  _ Miss Blue _ ,” Adam said, smiling. “She’s up to something.”

“Mm, so it seems,” Blue smiled back, then sobered slightly. “I confess, I thought it better to have her out of the house for when Ronan deigns to grace us with his presence.”

“...Yes, I agree that would be best.” Who knew what Ronan would be like this morning? Probably just angry and unapproachable, Adam speculated.

Blue’s countenance was pinched. “I can’t let him get away with this. Endangering himself, running around with that vile, repulsive…” She trailed off, huffing. “He may not give a damn about his reputation -- or his life, but he needs to think about Opal now. He needs to be held  _ responsible _ .”

Adam couldn’t help but agree and he still didn’t understand what possessed Ronan to willingly spend time with a man he claimed to hate. Perhaps it was strange for him to feel betrayed by the act, having only known the man so long, but he couldn’t help it. They had shared a moment of camaraderie in the carriage, had  _ bonded _ , even, through their mutual dislike of the slimy Kavinsky and the want to keep Opal safe.

“Does this happen...often?” Adam asked, dreading the answer. The thought of the two men spending any sort of time together turned Adam’s stomach. He didn’t want to imagine it.

Blue, thankfully, shook her head. “No. Or at least, not recently.” That wasn’t exactly what he had hoped to hear. “With Opal and running the estate taking up most of his time and energy, he hasn’t felt the need to seek out Kavinsky’s company. Though they did used to be thick as thieves.”

Trying to reconcile the way Ronan had acted at the inn yesterday versus what he was hearing now was just giving Adam a headache; he resolved not to puzzle over it any longer, instead steering the conversation to other matters as he and Blue turned back to their meals, quietly speaking of other things and slowly letting the tension drain from their shoulders.

It was just as breakfast was being cleared away that they heard a heavy shuffling down the hallway that could only be one person. There was a muffled curse and then there, rounding the corner, was the man of the house. He was still in last night’s clothes, rumpled and squinting like a newborn, and it would have been quite cute if Adam hadn’t been quite so angry.

“Noah!” Ronan growled as he pushed himself into the room and sat down hard at the table, disregarding the other people in the room. “Bring out some  _ food _ already, what else are you good for?” He waited a moment -- no reply. “ _ Noah _ .”

“Get breakfast yourself.” Ronan turned his head slowly, frown deepening upon seeing Blue standing above him, arms crossed and fire in her eyes. “Noah has better things to do than tend to a Master who cares for nothing; not even himself.”

There was a split second where Ronan’s expression opened with shock, before he spat, “Noah  _ works _ for me. I  _ pay _ him to do what I say,” A vile sneer twisted Ronan’s face, and the sight of it reminded Adam shockingly of Kavinsky. Just one night with him and it’s as if the man Ronan was had been warped and changed beyond recognition. “I pay  _ you _ , too. Neither of you have the right to refuse me. Why  _ are _ you in such a snit, anyway?”

Despite the sun shining through the windows, Adam found himself shivering. Confrontation of any sort made his skin crawl. But this was not about him, and this was  _ important _ , besides.

“Did you think we would not notice? That we would not know where you had gone, and who with?” Adam asked quietly, looking Ronan directly in the eyes. Surprise flickered over Ronan’s expression before he bristled, straightening up as much as he could while nursing a headache of epic proportions.

“And what does it matter to you what I do with my time? You certainly have no claim to it.”

Blue drew herself up, and Adam found that the look with which she fixed Ronan made even him tremble. “We have claim enough when you see fit to gamble your life away! What should happen to this household if you were to break your neck out there, rac i ng those death-trap carriages with none other than Kavinsky and his band of scoundrels?”

“I’m too  _ good _ for that to ever happen,” Ronan scoffed, and Adam saw the tips of his ears start to redden as his anger grew.

“Oh? Then you are at your best when soused out of your mind and under the influence of any and all substances that vile man carries about with him?”

Ronan bared his teeth, but did not respond. The use of mind-altering substances was new to Adam, and the sheer  _ stupidity  _ of what Ronan had engaged in last night finally dawned on him. And according to Blue, this type of wild behavior was not uncommon in the man of the house.

There was a swirling pit in Adam’s gut; he felt sick and wrong, looking at Ronan as if he was a different creature altogether. This was not the man he had come to know; this was a wild, rakish side of him that was all wrong. This was a Ronan under the influence of Mr. Joseph Kavinsky, a man he had denounced uncategorically just the previous day, and now he was defending him and his actions despite Blue’s increasing wrath and disappointment.

“How dare you? How dare you do this to us? To yourself? To  _ Opal? _ ” Blue continued, voice trembling with the force of her anger. She forged on, despite the shuttering of Ronan’s eyes, “Who do you think sat with her as she trembled and spoke of the ‘bad man’ that visited you while you were out yesterday? Are you not committed to protecting her? She’s your  _ responsibility _ now, Ronan. She’s your  _ daughter _ . She trusts you. What will she say when she learns where you’ve been?”

“I never  _ asked _ for this responsibility!” Ronan roared, slamming his fist down on the table and jarring the cutlery. The sudden silence afterwards echoed in all their ears. Adam and Blue watched as he blanched under their combined stares and slumped down. “No, I...it has nothing to do with her. She won’t  _ know _ .” He scrubbed his palm over his face and took a deep breath. “Not if you don’t tell her.”

“Oh, because keeping these kinds of secrets really helps create a bond,” Blue muttered sarcastically. “I won’t tell her only because it would break her heart to learn of it. She thinks the  _ world _ of you, Ronan. Why would you jeopardize that?”

“I have my own life to live,  _ Miss Sargent _ . If I keep things separate, then it does not have to be so big a deal as you make it out to be!”

“That is a  _ big _ if, Ronan. And we’ve already seen that you  _ cannot _ keep it separate. What of yesterday? When in broad daylight, Kavinsky accosted you with Opal in the vicinity? From what she and Adam told me, he was at the same table with you and made Opal wildly uncomfortable.  _ He _ doesn’t want to keep things separate. He has no boundaries that he won’t cross to get to you.”

“I’ll handle it.” Ronan gritted out, seething at the both of them, and finally Adam had had enough.

“I don’t believe you will, Ronan. Because I was there yesterday, with you. I saw how you treated him with disgust and hate, how you kept Opal away from him. You seemed all righteous indignation, so firm in your statements that you wanted nothing to do with him. But that was all a lie, wasn’t it? To fool Opal? To fool me?”

Ronan’s eyes cut to him furiously, mouth open to retort, but Adam forged on, “ I can see now that your word cannot be trusted,  _ Mr. Lynch _ .  Our conversation yesterday must have been for show; I admit you had convinced me of your hatred of him. But I see now." Adam's eyes were cold. "Snakes are all the same." 

Ronan’s mouth shut with a click, his eyes widening at the way Adam shut him down so thoroughly. Generally sweet,  _ good _ Adam. He’d sassed him before in good humor, but this was anger, pure and simple. Adam couldn’t read the expression on Ronan’s face as it changed in the face of his declaration, but he wasn’t arguing anymore.

Adam didn’t want to be in the room anymore, lest he explode, so he made for the door. 

Before he could get there, however, the door burst open and a handsome man with a breezy smile strode in holding up two massive bags. 

“Ronan! Blue! I’ve brought souvenirs from Brazil for all of you! Oh, it was so wonderful, truly, you all should have come.” The man set down his bags on the table and looked around, confusion writ all over his face. “Where is Opal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slowly opens door, peeks out* 
> 
> Umm, hello there... Hey... We're alive... 
> 
> Life got in the way... between various holidays and career changes and major moves, we have now restarted this fic and oh boy! *rubs hands together* DO WE HAVE THINGS PLANNED FOR YOU FOLKS! So thank you for sticking around! THANK YOU<3


	9. Chapter 9

The man who had swooped in with such evident cheer now sat distinctly awkwardly on the couch across from Adam, perched between a surly Ronan and a silently furious Blue. Chainsaw was there too, strangely well-behaved for once, grooming herself on her perch behind Ronan, only squawking lowly intermittently. He palmed a cup of tea, and while an easy smile graced his lips, his gaze surreptitiously flipped back and forth between the Ronan and Blue. Adam pitied him. Having been in most high spirits upon his return, he had very obviously not expected to enter an open combat zone upon entry to Thornfield Barns.

Adam took pity on this poor soul.

“So, Mr. Gansey,” Adam said, clearing his throat.

Small talk was not his thing.

This was going to be _agonizing_.

“Brazil?”

“Oh! Oh, yes, Mr. Parrish, have you been?” His eyes glittered animatedly and he leaned forward keenly.

“I have never been outside the county in my whole life, Mr. Gansey,” Adam said, as smoothly as he could manage. Thank God he wasn’t blushing. Adam could have sworn he caught Blue rolling her eyes out of the corner of his.

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry-- I shouldn’t have assumed-- I don’t know why I did--” Mr. Gansey was getting quite flustered now.

“You know what they say about assuming,” muttered Blue. Ronan shot her a look that may have been slightly approving if it had been a little less irritated.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Gansey,” Adam interrupted. “Would you perhaps like to tell us a little bit about your trip?”

“Oh! Yes, yes, of course! I would love to! But I was hoping that Opal, and Noah--”

“Opal,” grunted Ronan, unfolding his arms, and glaring up at Mr. Gansey, “is off God-knows-where, and Noah absolutely had to go with her,”

“Why?” Asked Mr. Gansey, perplexed. “She goes off on her own all the time,”

“To prove a point,” Blue said smugly. Three heads swivelled to face her calmly sipping her tea.

“What point?” Said Ronan, Adam, and Mr. Gansey simultaneously.

“That if you are going to be an idiot and cavort with Kavinsky and expect me to tote your sorry drunken ass all over this house, then you better not expect breakfast,” she snapped.

There was a pause.

“Ronan,” Mr. Gansey’s voice was low.

“Oh God, not you too,” he groaned.

“He’s _dangerous_ , you know he _knows too much_ \--”

“And you know what?” Blue interrupted. “I’m thinking that we ought to find out why all your suitcases are here, Gansey, and not at Monmouth Hall,”

Well. If that wasn’t an unsubtle topic change if ever he saw one.

Mr. Gansey blinked. His expression changed subtly multiple times-- confusion, shock, maybe realization, a hint of guilt, then a definite cast of trepidation, and finally settling at last on that winning smile he was wearing when he first arrived.

“Well, you see, Jane, I am a week early,” his voice was warm and cordial.

Blue raised an eyebrow. Mr. Gansey forged forward.

“Monmouth Hall will not be opened for a week. It’s not the main Gansey House after all, so it isn’t kept open year round. It would be uneconomical! Surely you see the reason in that, Jane. So I thought, naturally, that I could rely upon the hospitality of my greatest and oldest of friends,”

Blue sighed and slammed down her teacup perhaps a little too hard. Ronan snorted then promptly moaned and rubbed a hand on his aching head. Gansey flinched ever so slightly.

Suddenly, Chainsaw emitted a terrible great screech and began flapping her wings. Thinking that it was her sudden movement that upset her, Blue began to try to placate her, but she began to flap towards the window opposite the room. Adam barely had time to react as he thrust himself aside, but wasn’t quite quick enough to avoid being hit in the mouth with Chainsaw’s wingtip. She landed on the back of the couch and began screeching and pecking at the window, her feathers ruffled, shifting back and forth almost possessively.

Adam collected himself and leaned around Chainsaw to try to see what had upset her so. 

Through the window, he spied a small gray fleeing figure with blond hair and too big boots and felt his stomach drop.

He turned to Ronan. His face was white as a sheet.

Opal had _seen._ Opal had _heard._

 

\----

 

Adam paced in the grand foyer.

The thick carpet caught the sounds of his footsteps. The dark panelled walls and the ceiling, swathed in red silk seemed oppressive despite the grandeur of the room, and the bizarre assortment of what could only have been clocks that crowded upon the walls stared down upon him from every angle. They sat silent and unmoving, untended and forgotten in an impractical part of the house.

Blue had tended to Mr. Gansey’s-- no, _Gansey’s_ \-- rooms, dragging along the person in question to help her, so his path was a solitary one. It really was quite incredible how such a large house as Thornfield Barns ran on such meager staff. But Ronan was a private person-- except when he was being an ass, _that_ he put on full display, parading around with who had to be probably the most notorious charlatan in the whole county.

God only knew what they got up to together. Adam did _not_ like how free with innuendo Kavinsky was, and he certainly didn’t like how he had spoken himself, much less how he drank Ronan’s cup of tea. That just rubbed him the wrong way.

Adam stopped his pacing and froze in the middle of the room.

And now Opal knew that Ronan had gone to him. How could Ronan explain that to her? It made no sense to Adam or Blue, and they were grown adults. How could he go to willfully join the company of somebody he clearly despised? Someone who Gansey seemed to hint at knowing something about Ronan that he shouldn’t, knowing something that could be dangerous-- honestly, Ronan? How could he be so immature?

He gazed at the wall of strange clocks. Just then, a cuckoo clock on the wall to his right right at eye level wheezed itself too life. It whirred a strange, inverted kind of whistle; sad, slow, and while the door sort of half-heartedly opened and Adam could glimpse a small blue bird inside, it didn’t pop out or sing any louder than a gasp.

_This is what you get, Adam. This is what you get for thinking you’d made a friend._

He suddenly felt that he had gone very far away, very long away, back beyond the austerity of school, right back into his parent’s flat, cowering in the corner as his drunk father screamed and screamed and screamed.

Adam shuddered.

_For Opal_ , he reminded himself. _For Opal_.

 

\---------

 

By the time door finally creaked open and a rather imperious looking Opal came in towing a rather cowed looking Ronan, the sun was hanging much lower in the sky, Adam had refused the lunch Blue had offered him rather forcefully, and he was sitting rather unceremoniously cross-legged in the middle of the foyer. Upon seeing him, Ronan opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, then looked down at the carpet silently. Opal, seeing nothing at all odd about sitting cross-legged in the middle of the grand foyer of a grand house, crawled into Adam’s lap. He smiled at her and stroked her cheek but said nothing.

It was Ronan who broke the silence.

“Did you wait here the whole time?” There was an odd note to his voice.

“I waited here for _Opal_ this whole time, yes,”

“I’m sorry I took so long to get back Mr. Parrish,” Opal said contritely.

“It’s alright, Opal, I’m sure you were very upset. Did Mr. Lynch explain things to you? Do they make sense to you?”

“Welllll…” She drew out the word and chewed on it. “He explained it but it doesn’t make sense. Adults are stupid.”

“Opal, you shouldn’t call others stupid. Adults are… nonsensical, illogical, and utterly pigheaded, especially the ones named Ronan Lynch.”

Opal giggled and covered her mouth. She then fell silent and began to pull at the buttons on Adam’s waistcoat. With how old they were Adam had the very real fear they would pop off, but he decided to refrain from saying anything at the moment. She suddenly leaned over and cupped her hands over his ears.

“Ronan has always told me there are things I can’t tell you, Mr. Parrish,” she whispered very quietly. “He says there are things that it isn’t safe for you to know. But I don’t like it, not at all, and I hope that one day I can tell you all about it.”

Adam froze for a second and remembered back to what Gansey said earlier that day.

“And did Ronan tell you that Kavinsky-- that bad man-- he’s part of the secret?” He whispered back.

And Opal looked back at him with her wide, pale eye eyes, and nodded.

Adam felt his stomach drop. He had known, hadn’t he? Or at least he’d guessed. But to hear it confirmed--

“Adam?” Ronan called out questioningly to them. “What are you two talking about?”

It took Adam a second to collect himself.

“Nothing that concerns you,” he said loftily. He lifted Opal off his lap and pushed himself up. “A letter came for you while you were out by the way, from your brother whom Gansey kindly informed me you have, since you never mentioned it yourself,”

Ronan looked wary.

“Which one?”

Adam walked stiffly over to the table he left the letters on.

“Matthew, I believe? The younger one, correct?” He pulled it out.

Ronan’s eyes went huge. He snatched the letter from Adam’s hand and ran off before Adam could even fully extend his hand.

Adam shook his head and turned to Opal.

“Well then, my lady, shall we adjourn to supper?” He bowed and extended his arm to Opal who giggled and took it.

“We shall!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, it feels good to be back in the swing of things!
> 
> We hope you enjoy this new chapter, everyone! <3
> 
> Happy New Years!!!


End file.
